Somniis Cum Cornua (English Version)
by CupCakeyyy
Summary: Thanks to a long forgotten component of his childhood, Harry gets the opportunity to get to know his parents. Rating T, just to make sure ;)
1. Nightmare

A/N: This is the translation of my first fanfiction. I hope you like it :)

Special thanks to MandarinBridge for looking over the grammar and vocabulary as English isn't my native language :)

Enjoy :)

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Chapter 1 – Nightmare

"What... Harry!"

She ran toward her former hidden house – the Fidelius Charm was broken. She could still see the strands of magic hanging around her house. Some were falling to the ground and fused with it. The garden gate was open, the front door left ajar.

_How could this happen?_

"Harry!" Her husband James ran after her, down the street, through the open garden gate, along the path leading to their home straight toward the open front door. The door flew off its hinges as he threw himself full force against it.

The hallway looked like it always did. The pram stood next to the stairs which led onto the first floor. There was still a glass of water sitting on the coffee table, Harry's toys were scattered all over the rug. Everything was how they have left it behind when they got summoned by Dumbledore a couple of hours before.

_She sat on the couch and watched her husband and son play. James had his wand pulled out and was puffing different coloured soup bubbles out of his wand which Harry tried to catch. Every now and then he was successful. When he did snatch a bubble, it burst and puffed multicoloured smoke, Harry began to giggle and James followed suit._

_It was a very normal Halloween afternoon. In the evening Sirius, Remus and Peter would come over as they planned on having dinner together and afterward to dress up Harry. They wanted to introduce him to the muggle tradition. A couple of days ago, she had won a rather heated discussion considering her son's costume – seriously... why did James want to dress up Harry as a toilet? Honestly! _My son will never ever be seen in public dressed up as a toilet! _The tomato-costume lay waiting on the dining table._

_Just as a blue soap bubble burst causing a new giggle spell on their son, they could hear a soft knocking on the living room window. A brown owl was seated on the window sill, carrying a letter._

That has to be from Dumbledore, _she thought and let the owl fly into the warm room._

"_Dumbledore wants to see us", she said while reading the letter. "It says he wants us to meet him at headquarters."_

"_Now?", James blew a couple of colourful bubbles out of his wand and walked over to his wife. "What would he want from us?"_

"_We'll have to wait and see. Let's tell Sirius se he'll look after Harry and then we can go. The earlier we leave, the earlier we'll be back home. I don't feel well leaving Harry all alone."_

"_Me neither but Sirius will be with him. Nothing's going to happen to him", and with these Words he threw a handful of floopowder into the chimney, calling out "12 Grimauld Place, Sirius Black."_

_After a couple of minutes he withdrew his head from the fireplace and sighed._

"_Sirius has a date. Remus is with his family, that means I'll have to floo Peter and ask him whether he could come over."_

Lily rushed up the stairs, down the hallway, her husband following her every step but it was too late. She saw a bright, sickening green light coming out of Harry's room... a cold laugh...

"HARRY!"

"Lily! Sssssh... it's okay, everything's alright!" She sobbed and warm arms entwined around her shaking body and drew her toward an equally warm body.

"It was just a dream. Sssssh..." James held his wife in his arms. She was shaking so badly that he pulled her even further into the embrace.

He didn't need to ask what kind of nightmare she had had. It was always the same one – a constant memory of that one evening fifteen years ago. On that evening when their son Harry became the victim of the betrayal of their so called friend causing his death at the hand of none other than Voldemort.

Even after such a lone time the nightmares didn't cease – letting neither him nor his wife live in peace. Whether in light or darkness, at day or night. If he saw a pram, he thought of Harry's pram in which he loved being pushed around. If he saw the green of the nearby trees, he thought of his from laughter sparkling eyes, looking like big round emeralds, just like his mother's eyes. He could literally hear the light laughter of his son. Simply everything was a reminder of his little baby.

They had trusted Peter, he thought angrily. They had trusted him with the most valuable thing they owned, the most valuable thing they had owned in their entire lives – their son's life. And he betrayed them. He stole their joy of life.

He was their friend! He got invited to family dinners, to birthdays. Damn it, he even was one of the first people he allowed to hold Harry when he, beaming of joy and pride, brought his son to meet his friends – his pride, his everything. But that was just a facade. Peter was the reason Harry died – he had his son's blood on his hands. And he, James, did not foresee it.

"He was there, James! Voldemort! I heard him laughing! I saw the light. I heard the fizzling. Why, James? Why do I have to watch over and over again how my son gets killed?" Lily sobbed anew and burrowed her face into James shoulder.

"I don't know, Lily. I don't know."

Today was Halloween, 1996. Today was their son's day of death. Today was the day of death of both individuals holding each other and crying at three am, hoping that the night mare was just that – a nightmare.

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	2. Wishes

A/N: This is the shortest chapter in this story. The other ones are longer ;) Nevertheless... enjoy :)

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Chapter 2 – Wishes

_A scream, followed by whimpering._

"_Everything is going to be okay, Harry. You have to be strong, sweetheart!" He felt tears dropping onto his face. He got pulled into a tight embrace._

"_Mummy loves you! Daddy loves you! You are so loved! You have to be strong!"_

_He knew this soft voice. But it sounded different than before. Not happy or light but scared and sad. The voice quivered._

_A loud band, followed be a scream._

"_Move!" He didn't know this voice. But it sounded different than the other voices he knew and loved._

"_Not Harry! Please, not Harry!"_

"_Move aside, stupid girl! I warn you, move aside!"_

"_Not Harry! Please! I will do anything! Not my Harry!"_

"_Move aside! I am warning you for the last time!"_

"_Please! Please! Have mercy! Not my Harry! Please!"_

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

_A scream, followed by bright green light._

"_See, you brat?", the mean voice chuckled. Why didn't Mummy stand up? She only fell! She had to know he did not like the voice._

"_Oh, stop crying, you useless tyke! Your life is going toward a close anyway! Finally! Lord Voldemort will conquer! Just like it was prophesied!" The mean voice started laughing. Why did it laugh? Mummy, why didn't she stand up? Where was Daddy?_

"_Avada Kedavra!"_

_Green, lurid light, an immense amount of pain on the forehead. He screamed but his scream was overshadowed by an inhumane screeching..._

Harry woke up, gasping for air. He was covered in sweat – ice cold sweat. He grabbed his throbbing head. His scar hurt. Nearly as bad as in his dream – No! It wasn't a dream! He did know that much. As much as he hoped for it to be just a dream, he knew it wasn't. It was his first ever memory – his parents' death. Because of this memory he was famous. Because of this memory he was adored by so many people.

People from different countries, peoples he didn't even know, those who thought to know him. He didn't want to be recognized, he didn't want to be famous because of that dreadful night! All he wanted was a normal life. A life without pain, a life with a proper family, a life like a totally normal sixteen year old boy.

He rubbed his pounding forehead one last time, swung his legs over the edge of his broken bed and walked over to the window. Cold night air blew into his face and he heaved a sigh.

Today was his sixteenth birthday. He sighed again. _Birthday,_ he thought disdainfully. _A day just like any other._ He knew, he shouldn't think this way. Birthdays should not be just like any other day. They were the acknowledgement of having survived another year. Since that dark night, fifteen years have gone by. Oh, how much did he want to sacrifice these birthdays just to have his parents living once again or to be where they were right now.

He gazed into the starry sky above. _There,_ he thought, _they have to be up there. I wonder whether they know what day it is. Do they think of me?_ How much he wanted to get answers to these questions but it didn't matter how much he needed them, he still didn't get them. Since he could think, he never got answers. He was never allowed to ask and if he did ask nowadays he either got nasty looks from his relatives or a sympathetic smiley accompanied by the words '_The time will come, my boy, when you will get to know everything.'_

But he wanted to understand now! He wanted to get answers now! He wanted to get a '_Happy Birthday' _and not just from some random person! He didn't have any memories on hot it must feel to come down the stairs and to be hugged by beaming parents. To hear how proud they were and how much they loved him.

He blinked as a shooting star moved through the night sky a Little Whinging. Just how much he wanted to have his parents back. He didn't care where; the only thing that mattered was that it did happen.

He shook his head and turned around.

"That is never going to happen", he said out loud. "They are dead! And they are going to stay dead!"

He settled himself down onto his worn out bed and rand his hand over his forehead. The pain was gone as if it never was there in the first place.

_I will go and visit them_, he decided, crawling under his thin blanket. _I will visit the grave of the only people that have ever loves me!_ And with this thought he fell asleep.

The smile on his face as a reminder of the one he always had worn while being embraced by his parents – he was happy.

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	3. Where it all began

A/N: Aaaaaaand here is the next chapter! Enjoy reading :D

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Chapter 3 – Where it all began

"Swallow before talking", Hermione spat glaring at one of her best friends. "That's just disgusting!"

"You ah on'y je'oush", Ron muttered around his full mouth.

"Why the hell should I be jealous of _this_? I at least have table manners!"

Harry rolled his eyes. They had been at Hogwarts for nearly two whole months now and all those two accomplished was an argument followed by a new one. Hermione – being Hermione – wanted to begin revising for their exams, Ron thought that was ridiculous and didn't beat around the bush saying so. Confliction. Hermione wanted them to immediately begin doing their homework and not to just wait until the last minute, Ron was against it. Clash. Ron stuffed tons of food into his mouth, Hermione accused him of lacking in something as easy as table manners. Dispute.

"Would you stop all this fighting already?", Harry sighed.

"So now you are taking his side, is that it? I should have known", huffed Hermione and glared in Harry's direction. "You know, you are all too welcome to tell him your opinion on his missing table manners!"

"Hermione, I really don't care how Ron prefers to eat as long as he doesn't spit his half-chewed food all over me. And no, I do not always take Ron's side! Please just do me a favour and get along with each other once in a while and that meaning more than ten minutes at a stretch, okay? Or is that too much to ask for?"

"Well, I'm not the one nagging all the time", Ron said and pushed another banger into his mouth. "Shee ish se won sa'ing whad doesh nod blease her."

"Swallow, Ron!"

Just as Ron wanted to hiss an angry reply, Albus Dumbledore rose at the head table.

Dumbledore was the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He was a very old man with long white hair and a beard just as long as his hair. His light blue eyes twinkled in a rather amused kind of way looking into the crowd of students sitting in front of the head table.

"I have an announcement to make", his calm voice floating through the Great Hall. "As you surely all know the date for you deserved Hogsmead-trip was altered."

"Altered?", Ron gazed up at Dumbledore, a confused look on his face. He swallowed his mouthful of potatoes. "What does he mean, altered?"

"If you would consult the cork board in our Common Room for once in your life, Ronald, you would have gained this knowledge two weeks ago", Hermione huffed and turned her attention once again toward the headmaster who was currently busy naming the reasons for this change of plan.

"Does she have her period or why is she always this touchy?", Ron turned toward Harry wearing a questioning look.

"I am pretty sure, this thing does not last two whole weeks, Ron", Harry answered bluntly.

"Pssst", Hermione glared in their direction and pointed to the head table.

"…and because I have managed to convince Mr. Filch that a new Hogsmead date would be better for the team spirit of the student body this school holds than a collective cleaning campaign, I got together with the rest of the staff and decided that instead of going to Hogsmead the coming weekend, we will do so on Thursday. As I assume, it would be something different for once to go visit the little village on a special day. I am certain Madam Rosmerta is going to devote the decoration of her lovely pub accordingly to the theme of the day and nobody should waste such an opportunity", Dumbledore smiled happily looking around the Great Hall. "Now then, I do not fancy to postpone your chance to devour these delicious dishes."

Having said his piece, Dumbledore settled himself onto his chair behind the head table and shovelled himself a huge pile of scrambled eggs onto his golden plate.

"Halloween in Hogsmead?", Hermione sounded confused. "This could be interesting. But nevertheless it still confuses me as to why Dumbledore decided to apply the trip to the middle of the week. Will we go in the evening or will the classes be cancelled for the day?"

"I hope for the latter", Ron muttered under his breath and a grinning Harry had to agree wholeheartedly. Hermione was not as pleased.

"You should take your education more seriously, guys! A whole day without classes! How much time we would lose! Time we could better use in learning for our exams! Oh, Merlin, I have to go through the learning matter! I cannot afford lagging behind!" And with these words, a flustered Hermione rushed out of the Great Hall, still mattering to herself. Her plate still held food.

"Why is it that everything she thinks about is studying?", Ron shook his head uncomprehendingly. "And all the great food! She seems to favour starvation over relaxation", and within the next second Hermione's plate stood in front of Ron and the remaining food was taken care of.

But Harry didn't pay him any attention. He wanted to talk to Dumbledore for a while now. Halloween was the day his parents died. It never really had been a joyful day for him, even at the time he still hadn't known what had really happened on 31st of October 1981. He always had had a feeling he did someone wrong enjoying that particular day.

He glanced toward the head table seeing Dumbledore standing up and planning to leave the Great Hall through a back door. Quickly having made his decision, Harry jumped up and hurried in the direction of said door.

"Oi! Harry, your food", he heard Ron yell behind him but ignored his outcry and rushed into the corridor he had never seen before.

Dumbfounded he slid to a hold. Dumbledore seemed to wait for him.

"Why don't you accompany me to my office, Harry?", he asked smiling and began to walk down corridor which led into a whole labyrinth of other corridors Harry had never heard of or even been in.

"This is some type of junction of all secret passage ways that are used by the staff only", Dumbledore said as he examined Harry's facial expression. "One can only enter if they know the password which I must regretfully admit happens to change every day." He sighed and took a left turn at the next cross-way.

_That should explain why I have never seen something like this on the map, _Harry thought and continued alongside his headmaster until they stood in front of a certain gargoyle which led to Dumbledore's office.

"To my knowledge not a single student ever found out about the passage system. Fizzing Whizbees."

With a loud groan the gargoyle moved aside to reveal a spiral staircase.

Dumbledore guided Harry up the stairs and into his office where he motioned him toward the old but comfortable looking armchair which was positioned in front of a huge oak bureau.

"Now, Harry. What did you want to discuss with me?", Dumbledore asked as Harry took his seat.

"Well, sir, you see…", how should he ask him without making him think he wanted special treatment? He just wanted to visit his parents.

Dumbledore observed him patiently over his fingertips.

"Sir, as you know Thursday is my parents' day of death and I wanted to ask you whether…"

"Whether you could go to Godric's Hollow and visit your parents' grave?" Dumbledore looked at him with a knowing smile on his lips.

"Well… uhm… yes, sir", Harry murmured sheepishly and glances at his entwined hands in his lap. "It's just that, sir, that I've never been to their grave and I know it is supposed to be a Hogsmead-trip that day but I really wanted to… well, I would be very grateful if I could… well, you know."

"Now, Harry, you must know that I can comprehend your request and really take it to heart but you must know that this wish of yours indeed entails some risks."

"Risks, sir?" Harry looked up to his headmaster.

"Risks, Harry. Quite high ones, actually. As you know, Voldemort is gaining power."

Harry lowered his head. _Of course. What should it be if not that, _Harry thought deflated. The one that had been the reason that separated him from his parents and now keeping them apart.

"He still has the desire to get to you, Harry. So if you just marched into Godric's Hollow without any kind of protection, you would be in grave danger. I am sure, you understand, don't you?"

"Yes, sir", he muttered.

"And I think I am correct in assuming that it would be against your wish to have Order members accompany you?"

"Yes, sir."

"And I am quite sure that you know I do not have any plans in putting your life on the line, my boy."

"Yes, sir."

"So if we both agree to these few points…"

Crestfallen Harry stood from his seat and turned his back on his headmaster. _Well, it was worth a try, _he thought and began to make his way toward the door as Dumbledore began to speak once more.

"Alas if we are of the same opinion then we indeed need to find a way to make this trip possible."

"Sir?", Harry spun around and stared with wide eyes at Dumbledore. Did he really just agree? Would he finally be able to see his parents' grave? The warm feeling of happiness spread through him.

"You did indeed hear correctly, Harry", Dumbledore smiley and asked him to return to the chair in front of his desk. "The question is how we can possibly ensure your safety without having an Order member to accompany you", he ran his hand over his beard, los in thoughts.

Harry did not dare to breathe. He would see his parents. He would be able to talk to them. Well, as much as you could have a conversation with a tombstone but nonetheless, he was sure that his parents would see and listen to him. He could visit his former home; see where he would have grown up if Voldemort didn't exist. He would advance on his old life.

He snapped out of his thoughts as Dumbledore began to speak once more.

"I think, a portkey would be appropriate", he muttered and strolled toward the window next to his disk. His gaze roamed over the acreage of Hogwarts as he considered every possibility.

He didn't know of a spell that could possibly protect Harry. But he would still look through his books again to positively eliminate that option although he would rather it would stay an option. A portkey would be a minimum he had to provide. He had to obtain it illegally as the ministry was not to find out about Harry's desire to go back to Godric's Hollow. It did not matter if it was only for one day. He was positive that Voldemort had somehow infiltrated the ministry, the only important question was in which positions his followers were put. Did they have great influence? How big were his numbers within the heart of the wizard world's policy? Nevertheless, Dumbledore was certain, that if the ministry found out about their plan, Voldemorts men would as well and the consequences would be severe. It did not occur often that Harry Potter left the protection of the castle – unguarded. That would drop out the aurors. Harry's safety was first priority but there just had to be a possibility of letting him leave without having bodyguards trail his every step. He owed the boy at least that much. After all the pain and suffering he had caused him, he could only do so much.

But how should he do that? He could charm a portkey, that wasn't a problem. Maybe Polyjuice Potion? No, even weak detection charms would raise an alarm. And regretfully he had to admit that Voldemort, was he to find out, would never send people like Peter Pettigrew to Godric's Hollow. No, Polyjuice Potion wasn't even an option worth considering.

Their only chance was his Invisibility cloak he inherited from his father. Dumbledore knew it wasn't just any normal Invisibility cloak you could buy with much money. Just before James' death, he had asked his former student to entrust his cloak to him; the cloak that had been the key to the success of the infamous Marauders; the cloak that had ensured the four boys could have never been found. As Dumbledore had held it in his own hands, he knew immediately that this was not your average Invisibility cloak.

Sure, Invisibility cloak were hard to come by and not everyone could effort them but this one? It was something special. The material did not have the some texture as a normal cloak charmed with undetectable Invisibility-charms and made of Invisibility-yarn. Now, this cloth was like smoke. So delicate that one nearly didn't feel it. So light that one could think they held only water or air in their hands. That cloak was something one-of-a-kind. Something that got handed over from generation to generation. From father to son, from mother to daughter.

The Potters were one of the oldest and most outstanding wizard families since the Great Founders. This cloak was of unbelievable value, both materialistic and historical, but the magical value was greater than anything. It was one of the Deathly Hallows. A magical artefact of such importance that it nearly seemed impossible that the last couple of generations owning it had used it to pull pranks and to go on midnight strolls with their girlfriends.

This cloak was the only option to guarantee a certain amount of protection for Harry. Then he would have the portkey as well to verify that the teen would come back unharmed. And he would not get the permission to make this trip all by himself but knowing Harry, Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley would come along.

With this conclusion in mind, he nodded and turned toward his expectant student who observed his with wide eyes.

"I came to a conclusion", he said and ran his hand over his beard once again. "You can go to Godric's Hollow, however, I do have a couple of conditions regarding your trip."

Harry sat up after hearing Dumbledore's words. What kind of conditions? Would he be accompanied by teachers? _Oh, please, no!_

"First of all, I want you to not tell a single soul, may it be student or teacher, of your plan on the day of the Hogsmead-trip. It is first priority that this knowledge stays within the walls of this very room. Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley are the only ones to know about it", he added, seeing Harry's facial expression. "I am also of the opinion that your friends should accompany you're an your trip out of Hogwarts' bounds."

"I wanted them to come along anyway, sir", Harry assented quickly. He would go to Godric's Hollow! He would go home! "Of course after asking them first", he added hastily.

"Very good. On further account do I wish to bring you to Godric's Hollow myself. Being me, I have the extraordinary ability to apparate out of Hogwarts' walls and would like to make use of that. Would that be alright with you, Harry?"

"Of course, sir!"

"Splendid! Furthermore, I want you to bring along your remarkable Invisibility cloak. It is possible that Voldemort has had the idea of having some of his followers patrol the streets of Godric's Hollow and I do not wish for them to find out about you three."

"Naturally, sir."

"You will also get a portkey, just in case. If someone follows you or something unforeseen occurs, I want you to activate it immediately! It is to bring you right into this very office. It is of great importance that you remember, Harry!"

"Yes, sir. I will."

"Very well. After four hours I will await you at the kissing gate leading onto the graveyard. Be on time! Every single minute without further protection is dangerous."

"Understood, sir."

"Good. You may go now, Harry. And do not forget, nobody is to find out about Halloween!"

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A/N: I didn't start translating the fourth chapter yet because I was pretty busy lately. I will try and start soon though :)

Don't forget to leave a comment :D I really love reading them ;D


	4. Godric's Hollow

A/N: Sorry this took so long.. enjoy :)

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Chapter 4 – Godric's Hollow

After his conversation with Dumbledore, the days passed by rapidly and before he could say Quidditch, it was the day he both looked forward to and also feared – Halloween.

Like always, Harry was the first one to wake. If he could trust the clock on his bedside table, it was 6.30 in the morning.

Today was Halloween. In a little over three hours he, accompanied by Ron and Hermione, would go to Dumbledore's office, armed with his Invisibility cloak and warm jackets so they could apparate to his parents' graves.

He could not believe that this was the day. He had been able to feel the anticipation whenever he had thought about the 31st of October for the last week. He had been nervous but the joy had been greater. He could not describe it directly. It was a strange feeling which he had never felt before. Of course, he had been nervous many a time. He would be foolish if he had not been, considering all those situations he had found himself in – most of them involuntarily – which, sadly enough, happened quite frequently and way too often. It would have been more than naïve to say he had not been nervous as he had had to face the dragon or Quirrel in his first year at Hogwarts. But the feeling he could sense now wasn't just anticipation and nervousness, it was fear. He was scared to not feel anything while standing in front of the tombstone. After all, he did not have many memories of his parents. Things like the knowledge of feeling secure or shreds of the memory of what his parents' voices had sounded like; that he did have, but stuff like their appearances or characters he knew only from pictures or stories being told by people who had known Lily and James Potter. He was afraid of what he had to expect when the time would come and he would stand in front of his former home. Was it in such a bad condition that there would be a constant risk of it to collapse? Or would he be able to go inside? He wanted to see what it looked from the inside. Maybe some memories of good times would find their way back to him?

But it was impossible for him to answer those questions yet and he really did not have any desire to do so right now. The knowledge that he would soon stand in front of the debris that he called his childhood was enough to handle at the moment.

Groaning, Harry shuffled into the bathroom. A long, hot shower would do wonders now. As he opened the tap and felt the hot water on his skin, he congratulated himself to be a morning person. Just the fact that he was able to get a hot shower was worth any possible fatigue.

Freshly showered and ready for the day – to comb his hair did anything anyway… Why did he still bother to take the brush with all his other things back to Hogwarts anyway? – he re-entered the dormitory after twenty minutes or so in which slowly but surely its residents began to rise. Ron grumbled as his bare feet touched the cold stone floor, Seamus was – like every morning – looking for his socks, Dean had run past him with a relieved 'Finally!' and Neville sat cross-legged on his bed, watching wearily as the others went about their morning routine.

Shaking his head, Harry made his way into the Common Room where Hermione already waited for him.

"Nervous?" She greeted him and pointed at the seat next to her.

"A little", he admitted and settled himself beside her on the sofa in front of the fireplace.

"Everything will work out just fine. You'll see. We're here with you", she smiled at him and placed her hand on his arm. From where she touched him, a warmth spread throughout his body and he began to relax a little. Nobody was able to reassure him as Hermione did again and again.

He was really glad to have her as a friend and grateful that she and Ron had agreed immediately as he presented his plan on the night after his conversation in Dumbledore's office.

"_There you are at last", was the first thing he heard that afternoon as he climbed through the portrait hole._

_Ron and Hermione sat side by side on the sofa before the fire, Ron with a Quidditch magazine in hand, Hermione with her homework. Having heard Ron's words, she turned and put her parchment and quill aside. Harry slowly made his way over to the fireplace and sat down on the chair beside the couch._

"_I had something to discuss with Dumbledore", he said, running his hand over his face,_

"_And what was it?" Hermione looked at him with concern in her eyes. "I hope, you're in no trouble."_

"_No, no, everything's fine", Harry assured her. "No, what I wanted to discuss was something on Halloween and I wanted to ask you for your opinion on it as well."_

"_Spill the beans, man", Ron threw the magazine onto the floor in front of him and stretched. Hermione shot him a dirty look, then decided to ignore him, however, and turned back to Harry with an interested expression._

"_Well, as you guys know, the Hogsmead trip is planned for Halloween and I wanted to know…", de did not get any further because Ron put a big smile on his face and slapped Harry on his back._

"…_And you made sure that we'll get free time and the classes will get cancelled? Oh please, tell me that this is true! I don't want to see that overly large insect on Thursday!"_

"_I've already told you a thousand times, Ronald, that it was totally batty to take Divination for even one more semester. What do you achieve with this subject anyway? Trelawney is a hypocrite and Divination is an extremely spongy branch of magic. Even Professor Dumbledore is of the opinion that…"_

"_Hermione! I can now no longer change that, okay?" Ron replied annoyed. "I needed a subject so I wouldn't be one subject short and in Divination…"_

"…_You can easily blag your marks. Yes, I know", Hermione said contemptuously. "I'm really relieved that at least one of you has proved enough brains to drop this so-called subject."_

"_I'm also glad that I no longer have to listen to that old coot telling me that I should actually be dead already, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. As I said, I was talking to Dumbledore, not to interrogate him about classes", Ron groaned disappointed, "but to ask him whether I could go to my parents' graves on Halloween."_

"_Oh, Harry", Hermione looked at him with a sad smile. "I didn't even think about that! Being in your position, I would also have no desire whatsoever to go to Hogsmead. This is only understandable. But, Harry! It's incredibly dangerous to go to Godric's Hollow at a time like this! The location must be teeming with Death Eaters. After all, Voldemort", Ron jumped violently, "nearly died there and it must be clear to him that you would like to return there someday. What did Dumbledore say to this idea of yours anyway?"_

"_He said it would be taking some safety precautions in order to go there. That's why I wanted to ask both of you if you might want to come along."_

_Hermione beamed at him. "But of course, we'll come with you! Isn't that right, Ron?"_

Harry smiled at that memory. He had not wanted to admit it, but he was very relieved that Hermione and Ron had agreed. He was not sure if he would have been able to do this all by himself, without the moral support. He was lucky to have them both as friends.

A few hours later, they stood in front of the gargoyle leading to Dumbledore's office and gave it the password – "Peppermint mice". The stone staircase wound itself up and before they could fully realise, Hermione had already knocked on the wooden door.

"Come in", a voice called from the inside and they entered the spacious office of the headmaster.

"Ah! There you are", Dumbledore wore deep purple robes with black, moving bats on it. With his pointed shoes and radiant smile, he somehow looked a little like a crazy Santa Claus. The fact that he apparently held a snorkel in his hands did not really help to dispel the first impression.

"This", he waved the snorkel around in the air, "is your emergency portkey in case something unexpected should happen, not that I consider that a serious possibility, but let's not take any risks. Well, I suppose, Mr. Potter has informed both of you about the plan?" Dumbledore looked at them over his half-moon spectacles.

"Yes, sir, he did", Hermione took Harry's hand and squeezed it lightly.

"Very nice. Then I ask you to hold onto my arm so I can bring you to Godric's Hollow. But first, you should stow away the portkey", he handed Hermione the snorkel, which she shrank immediately and tucked it in her inner pocket of her winter jacket. "To enable it, all of you must hold onto it and all say the password simultaneously, which is 'Retreat'. Easily enough to remember. And do not forget to stay together at all costs. Understood?" They nodded. "Well then, are you ready? Hold on tight."

Dumbledore reached out his arms and the trio clung to them.

"On three. One, two…" Harry felt an uncomfortable pulling at the navel and before he could say wand, he was squished through a tiny, invisible tube. Everything around him was black, he could neither breathe nor see, but just as he thought he would suffocate, his feet hit something hard and cold air rushed through his lungs. His knees buckled and he lost his balance. As, groaning, he picked himself up again, the first thing he noticed was an old church next to an even older cemetery.

They were in Godric's Hollow.

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A/N: My life is pretty hectic right now and a lot is going on. So I don't know when I'll upload the next chapter but just as the last one - I'll try to start translating soon. Thanks for reading :) Hope you enjoyed. And don't forget to leave a comment.


	5. All that remains are the memories

A/N: Hey there :) Here it finally is - the fifth chapter. It's pretty late right now, so I apologize for any possible mistakes that I didn't see while translating this chapter. Near the end, I started to put german words in between english ones and it was all very confusing xD My brain just didn't want to work anymore.. Anyway.. It's nearly midnight now but I wanted to upload this now, so you guys can read it as soon as possible. Enjoy :)

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Chapter 5 – All that remains are memories

Mary Potter blinked as the sun shone onto her face. If one only focused on the sun, one would have thought, it would be the middle of summer and not the end of October. However, did one consider different things than the warm sun, one could see the dead leaves on the grass of the acreage, the bare trees, the icy wind that shook the branches of the nearly dead trees and, despite the sun, the everlasting grey sky. It was autumn.

Mary had nothing against fall. She liked to shuffle the foliage with her boots. She held the view that the leaves were the autumn's snow. She liked this season. If it weren't for Halloween.

Today, exactly fifteen years ago, her big brother had died. She had not even met him because she had not even been planned at the time. Her parents had told her many stories about Harry, though. One might think, perhaps, that a mere one and a half year old baby could not really have been the topic of many great stories and although that was in fact the truth, it was worth every time she had sat on the couch between each of her parents and had listened to and watched when they had taken the photo album from Harry's old nursery and had told her everything from his first hiccup up to his first word, which had been their purpose in life so many years ago. But those hours of story-telling was worth it, being able to see how the still lingering sadness vanished from her parents' eyes, although a baby was not able to accomplish great achievements – still, those little things managed to banish the darkness from their little family, even if it was for only a couple of precious minutes.

Every year in July, her parents began to think about the past more than they already did. Harry had been born on 31st of July and each year her parents wished, they would be allowed to worry about possible presents, how big a party they would have to organize and whether Harry would have a girlfriend at this time – were he still alive.

This time of the year when Mary went along with the weekly shopping for groceries, she would witness her mother standing longer than necessary in the confectionary department, her father staring absentmindedly at a sports magazine… But Halloween was even worse than the 31st of July. Halloween had always been considered the day on which their lives had been forced to take a drastic turn which had eventually ended in the death of her only brother.

Her parents had made it their business to explain to her that she had had a brother. Everywhere were pictures of and with him – photos of a beaming Lily Potter with her newborn son in her arms in the hospital bed, photos of a bright red James Potter, who tried to put his son in a high chair, photos of a black-haired boy that flew across the living room laughing his head off, his Dad hot on his heels, in the background a screaming mother and a cackling godfather. And pictures of the same little black-haired boy, hair sticking up in all possible direction, large, emerald eyes and a wide, toothless grin.

Although Mary had never known her brother personally, she did have the feeling of having known him and exactly that was one of her parents' dearest wishes, or so she imagined. The memory of the oldest Potter-sprout would never fade, no matter how painful it was.

Mary pushed the blanket aside and stretched. Today would be a busy day. She had spoken to Professor Dumbledore before the start of term to ask him to give her a day of. Normally, he had told her, he would not make any exceptions when students were concerned but he has already spoken with her parents and had told them, she would be allowed to accompany her parents to her brother's grave.

With a loud yawn, Mary made her way to the bathroom. She decided she would be less tired after a long shower.

A whole hour later, she found herself freshly showered, fed and clothed in her thick winter cloak in the Headmaster's office. She took some Floo Powder from the mantelpiece, said goodbye to the headmaster and disappeared with a loud "Godric's Hollow, Prong's Shelter" in the emerald flames.

She found her parents already awaiting her. She stumbled out of the chimney and landed – face first – on the rug in front of the fireplace. _As _e_legant as always_. After being hoisted up by her father and having freed herself from the soot, they began their silent walk to the cemetery next to the church. It was a very old church, perhaps dating from the thirteenth century, the cemetery, however, looked even older. The tombstones, which were littered wildly around the yard, were partly weathered so badly that one was lucky if they could make out their shape. One some of the newer ones, you could decipher names or phrases the relatives and friends had chosen as an inscription. The deeper you went into the graveyard, the quieter it got. The noise from the individual shops that existed in Godric's Hollow died slowly, the birds were no longer heard, nor the people who went along the street leading away from the church. _All in all, everything seems to be dead in here although it isn't_, Mary thought ill-tempered and hurried after her parents, who had stopped a couple of rows on front of her.

Her mother had tears in her eyes and murmured something in a soft voice, as if she was talking to the tombstone – which probably was what she was doing. Her father turned around and motioned her to come closer, the sad smile never leaving his features. She walked slowly toward the marble stone and looked on its inscription.

Here lies

Harry James Potter

Born 31st July 1980

Dies 31st October 1981

You will always be loved

_Harry_, Mary blinked, _I know, I have never met you, but I know you would have been a great brother. Mum and Dad talk about you a lot, you know. Every time when Mum freaks out over Dad's hair because neither he nor she manages to put it in a somewhat presentable manner, I always recall all those moments in which Dad beams like a complete moron and shows me all those pictures featuring a cute little boy with horrible hair and he tells me – proud as he is – that you have inherited his hair. I was never allowed – not even now – to tell Mum just how happy he was about that little detail about you. I think he secretly wants neither Mum's spells – which are really good, I tell you – or any of her potions – which are probably even better – to ever change anything about that chaos on top of his head that he so fondly calls hair. I think, even though he was the first of you two to call that mop his own, he is able to remember you even more every time he looks into the mirror each morning. You would probably look astonishingly like him now. I even think Mum would have difficulty keeping the two of you apart. Just imagine what you could have done with this advantage and Dad would have been the target for Mum's wrath! _Mary smiled through her tears. _But I can only imagine how it could have been, right? Maybe you would not have become a Mischief Maker, a new Marauder, but would have had to endure me pinning the blame on you. Perhaps that would have led to us fighting and me yelling mean and hurtful thing at you which I would have regretted so much afterwards. But we could have at least argued about stupid thing like that. I would have had a brother._

James had her arm around Lily and whispered soothing words in her ear. Halloween was the worst day of the year. That he knew, he did prepare himself for it – really, he did – but every time, so it seemed, when he stood in front of his son's grave, his whole world would break around him – year after freakin' year. The grief was still sitting very deep and the loss still felt too fresh. And as much as he wished for the pain to subside, he reminded himself that he should rather feel this unbearable pain. It was a constant reminder of the loss and the betrayal they had experiences and that Harry had to pay with his life for. He hated himself so much for not having thought of Wormtail, as it had been said that there had been a spy in the Order. He had thought it impossible that one of his best friends would be able to do something so horrible. Oh, how he had been mistaken. And he, James, had also run straight into his probably already planned trap. All those years ago, he had been the one who had actually invited Peter into their house and practically laid Harry's safety into his eager, filthy arms, even if it had only been for a couple of hours. A couple of hours too long. Could he not have sent a Patronus to Dumbledore with the request to visit them instead of them leaving the safety of their home in order to discuss whatever business Dumbledore had wanted to talk about? Would that have been too hard to accomplish? This way, they would never have lost Harry to the hands of some megalomaniacal, homicidal maniac.

"I'm sorry, Harry", was all he said to his son this year.

Beside him his wife sobbed and whispered loving words to the grave, just like it was engraved in the marble headstone. Harry knew he was loved, of that James was sure. Even if he could not tell him personally right now, could not show him how he felt, James could apologize every year for his mistakes and ask for forgiveness. And at some point, he would find his peace of mind.

"Cone on", he said softly and took Lily's arm. "Let's go home."

Once at home, an emotionally exhausted Lily Potter went to the first floor and locked herself into the room which anybody hardly ever entered. It had the aura of a shrine, a sacred place that one was not allowed to contaminate with mundane, everyday things. Lily sat down in the rocking chair that stood next to the cot, picked up a stuffed stag and hugged the toy tightly against her chest.

If she had looked around the room, she would have found it exactly as it had been than night. In the memory of their son, they had not changed a single thing in this room. Even Harry's toy broom still stood in the corner. When Mary had been the right age, they had given her her own broom. Harry's things belonged to Harry and they were not passed on. Even if the one getting them would be his little sister.

Lily breathed in deeply, taking in the smell of the stuffed animal. It didn't smell like her baby anymore, not after so many years, but she like to imagine the clean, sweet smell of her first-born child. That smell was burned into her memory forever, she was sure of that. Just like on the day she had given birth, she could still smell the scent that her brain connected automatically with a laughing child.

A smile crept onto her lips. She would never forget Harry. Even if she would have wanted to, she would not have been able to. And that she was proud of. Harry was and would always remain a part of the family, even if he was not physically present, he was still living on in their memories and hearts.

On the ground floor, James and his daughter were seated at the kitchen table. Both had a hot cup of tea in their hands and hung after their own thoughts.

Lily always locked herself into Harry's old room for a longer time than the year prior. She suffered more and more on the inside and James did not like that at all. He suffered just like he did and she knew that. Why did she shut herself up after all those years? Did she fear to be rejected because she was already moaning for one and a half decades and thought therefore she had to get over it?

But James could see the progress. During the first year she had had difficulties in everyday activities. She would have broken into heart-wrecking sobs when doing the dishes, James had not felt able to comfort her, to give her a feeling of security. But that had changed. They had learned to share their pain and to trust each other again. A year later, they had had a second chance to be happy. Their daughter had been born and James had sworn as he had held Mary Lillian Potter for the first time that he would do everything that was possible to not have to choose a gravestone for her. Not for his daughter!

Mary looked into her cup of now cold tea. Her mother had locked herself into Harry's room two hours prior and she had not been heard since. The room on the first floor was a good place to think, she had frequently been in there and she knew her mother needed a little time for herself right now, but two hours had been enough time to think, right? She didn't want her to lock herself in – not only into that room, no, not even deep into her very being. That just wasn't good for her. She would get sick.

But then something happened that ripped both father and daughter out of their seats and toward the stairs. A bang, a scream and then dead silence.

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A/N: Don't forget to leave a comment :) Next chapter: Harry meets his parents.. although not in the way you guys will think^^


	6. Lost Childhood

A/N: Here is the next chapter. Hope you enjoy it :) But before you start reading I want to apologize for messing up in the last A/N. The chapter were Harry somewhat meets his parents is Chapter 7. I hope you'll forgive me. It was really late and I was more than a little tired so I mixed those two chapters up... Anyway.. enjoy :)

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Chapter 6 – Lost Childhood

"So this is Godric's Hollow!"

"Ron! Damn it, get under the Cloak immediately", hissed Hermione and stuck her head out from under said Invisibility Cloak. Harry rolled his eyes. "Come here at once!"

"Yeeeeees", Ron drawled annoyed and shuffled to the spot where Hermione's head floated about five feet above the ground. "My goodness, Herms. You can't see a God damned soul out here. Get a grip, will you?"

"Get a grip? I'm supposed to get a grip? Say, are you completely bollocks? Voldemort is out there somewhere and you tell me in all seriousness I should… are you off your rocker?" Hermione spat and turned to Ron – very slowly and with from anger flashing eyes. "We are at war, if you haven't noticed yet, Ronald!"

"Oh, come on, Hermione! I hardly think that You-Know-Who is going to come marching right around a corner to get some fresh air and just happens to see us."

"Would you stop your constant arguing already?" Harry spat at them as Hermione opened her mouth to retort an angry reply. "We are here so I can visit my parents for the very first time in my life that I'll actually be able to remember in the future, and so that I can go to the house where I would have possibly spent my childhood in if that had not been totally destroyed by a murderous madman! So please, for Merlin's sake, keep your mouths shut and get along with each other for at least today! I really have enough on my mind as it is, so I don't have the nerves to listen to your constant bickering, understood?"

Hermione blinked at Harry and looked over to Ron, who wasn't standing more than ten inches away from her. "Yes, of course. I'm sorry, Harry. You're right. That was stupid of us."

"That it was. If you considered the fact that there could be a Death Eater standing behind every corner and you're are holding a shouting match that's just screaming 'Here we are, come and kill us!'. We only have four hours and I want to make use of those hours the best I can. Please. Let's go." With these words, Harry turned on his heels and went along the path leading to the cemetery gate at a slow pace, so that none of them lost the Invisibility Cloak.

The gate was as old as the cemetery itself. Overgrown with wilted rose tendrils, it creaked in the breeze that blew through the village. They had to be very careful that the Invisibility Cloak didn't get caught in the thorns of the dead roses. In a slow tempo, the trio went – hidden by the Cloak – through the rows of grave stones.

The older ones that looked as if they were almost fallen apart were littered all over the graveyard in a rather unorganized manner. However, the deeper they advanced into the cemetery, the more an organization of graves became visible. Names like Johnsson or Bell caught their eye and left room for speculation that this village had housed wizarding families for a long time, also some of those they thought to know from Hogwarts. Now and then they stopped to read a name more closely, however, kept moving disappointedly when they did not read Potter but Pondsman or Pollkins.

Harry tried to stay calm under all circumstances. Each time they stopped because one of them thought they made out a 'P' or even a 'Po' on one of the grave stones they had just passed, he just became even more nervous. His heart pounded against his chest and he had the feeling that slowly but surely he lost some of his lung volume.

Hermione turned to Harry to ask him whether he might have heard Sirius or Remus talking about visiting Lily and James Potter's grave and thus had mentioned where it was to find as she saw Harry's facial expression. She looked into the direction that had Harry's full attention and saw a large stone of pure marble a few feet away from them. She looked at Harry and took his hand in hers. Harry turned to her and looked into her eyes. Green in brown. Hermione had always found that Harry's heart was mirrored in his eyes to those he knew well enough, whether he realised it or not. She could see a lot of emotions in these beautiful eyes that were again and again followed by a different emotion. It happened so fast that she could not name the individual emotions, but they were there. One was always present, though. Fear. Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Boy-Who-Lived, the boy who had brought the downfall of the strongest and most frightening dark wizard that existed at the age of just barely over a year, was afraid. But in front of her wasn't the Chosen One. In front of her stood Harry. A boy who would move in front of his parents' grave for the first time in his life and who would do so any moment now. And she would be by his side.

Hermione took Harry's hand in hers and squeezed it lightly. Harry looked down and smiled sadly. Hermione was there for him. She was always there for him. He didn't have to go through this alone.

He took a calming breath and walked unsteadily toward the marble grave. As he stood in front of it, his breath caught.

Here lie

James Charlus Potter Lily Margret Evans Potter

Born

27th March 1960 30th January 1960

Died

31st October 1981 31st October 1981

The last enemy that shall be destroyed is Death.

"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is Death", Harry whispered as he looked down at the grave of his parents.

"It means 'Beyond Death', I suppose", Hermione said softly and clasped his arm with her free hand.

_So that's it_, Harry thought and blinked. _The grave of my parents._ He stood in front of the remains of his parents who were probably just bones now, if even that. Without any clue that their living son stood before them, breathing, of flesh and blood, and in that moment he missed them so much that he almost wished he would lie beside them. Buried in the cold earth with them at his side. No, at that moment he wished that with all his heart. He wanted to be with his parents. Physically. He wanted to have them close by.

He winced as he felt Hermione's hand on his face. Until that moment he had not realized that he was crying. Ron stood behind Hermione with a sad expression on his face and nodded to him. They did not understand him. They could not understand him. How could they? They had family, Ron had siblings, they had grown up having a home, something that Harry had not known until he had come to Hogwarts. They had been loves and had experienced security, how it felt to be wanted. He wasn't even accepted. He was merely tolerated his whole life. He was not sure whether that had changed greatly on his eleventh birthday in the wizarding world. After all every single one of them demanded that he put an end to the greatest dark wizard, even though he didn't know whether he could. Everyone wanted him to fight until death, to sacrifice himself for so many people who were nameless for him, but the wizarding world was the place where he had gotten friends for the first time in his short life, what it felt like to be liked. Hogwarts, the wizarding world was his home and everybody who had one would do anything so that it would not come to harm. And he would do that too, whether everyone had already demanded that, he did not care. He had decided to do everything humanly possible to give his home a future. With or without him.

Harry smiled at his friends. "Thank you that you're here with me", he whispered and Hermione pulled him into a hug. "Of course we are here with you", she whispered in his ear and stroked his hair. "Of course we're here." It was all too much for Harry. The impressions of the village, the knowledge that his parents had once walked over this road a few years ago, laughing, maybe even with him in the pram, holding hands, and now dead before him, made him do something he never did. He allowed his tears to flow down his cheeks. He allowed his grief, his unbearable grief over everything that had happened in his still short life. He mourned the betrayal of his parents, the death of his parents, he mourned the conflict that arose between Remus and Sirius after Halloween 1981. But above all, he mourned his lost childhood.

They stayed in their embrace for what felt like hours. Harry wiped the tears from his eyes and smiled at his two friends. They should be on their way soon. With a last look on the grave – Ron had placed a bouquet of lilies on the earth in front of the marble stone when Harry had cried on Hermione's shoulder – he said "See you soon, Mum, Dad. I miss you." He turned around and wrapped his left arm around Hermione's shoulders, his right around Ron's and together they left the cemetery in search of Harry's parents' house.

Once on the street, they turned right, down the road, past the church and into the darkness, broken only by a few old-fashioned street lamps. After a few minutes of silence they saw a square before them, which seemed to be the central point of the village of Godric's Hollow. The square was paved with cobblestones and if you had looked from the sky onto the square, so Harry thought, it would have been the image of a sun – the square as the centre, the streets leading to the central point of the town organized like sunbeams, each surrounded with two lanterns. Between the lights and streets were elegant looking metal benches, all of which were aligned with the centre of the square. There stood an old war memorial. A cube, on which stood a man with a rifle. You could just make out a number of names that were engraved into the stone cube. _Probably the British soldiers who had fallen in World War I_, Harry thought and was about to move on, when Hermione suddenly gasped and stopped walking.

"What is it?" Ron asked, slightly annoyed and looked at the war memorial, which Hermione pointed at with a trembling finger and swallowed. Harry followed their gaze and saw with eyes wide open in shock that this cube wasn't a real war memorial. Standing before him was not a big stone cube with engraved names on it. No, standing before him was the image of a young couple with a child in their arms. The man had one arm wrapped around the woman's waist, the other around her stomach. The woman leant toward him and held a little boy in her arms, that she supported on her hip in order to better balance the weight. Both had a proud smile on their faces. Harry blinked. He knew this couple! The man had messy hair and round glasses that sad slightly crooked on his long nose. He was a little bit taller than the woman who had almost waist-long hair and smiled at him.

"Harry", Hermione tugged at his sleeve. "Are these two…"

"My parents", Harry could not believe it. There before him stood a statue of his parents and himself! A monument to the most famous family of the last fifty years, if not even more. It was a strange feeling to see oneself set in stone, even though it was his toddler-self.

"Let's move on", he whispered and turned away from the statue. After a few steps, he turned around once more, instead of the Potter-monument stood the plain cube with the names once again. It was enchanted.

They walked along the street Harry had chosen arbitrarily as Hermione gasped again.

"What is it?" Harry asked nervously, but Hermione, again unusually quiet, just pointed at a house at the end of the road, or at least what had once been a house. Over there, at the right end was a ruin with a totally overgrown garden and looked very decayed. The weather had not had any mercy with it.

"That looks pretty battered, don't you think? As if it would collapse from the next gust of wind", Ron muttered and, with the other two, walked over to the dilapidated house.

The trio stopped in front of the rusted gate and allowed the whole situation to sink in. Harry's eyes darted over the scene before him. A house – his house, dilapidated, ramshackle, battered, the once beautiful garden destroyed. Nature had already retrieved this part of the lot as her own. Pieces of wood were scattered everywhere, probably, so Harry thought with pain in his stomach, it originated from the hole in the wall of the first flour. There it must have happened. There, Voldemort had tried to kill him and had almost died himself. But it wasn't enough for Harry to just look at the house from the outside. He wanted to go inside. He wanted to see what it had once looked like, he wanted to find out whether he recognized the places where his parents had died to protect him. He wanted to know whether any objects had remained within the house – old photos, toys, no matter what.

He stretched out his hand and pushed the gate open. Before him a weathered sign ascended, onto which many curious people and tourists had scribbled messages. Some wished him luck, others had only left their names.

"Wow, I want to write something on it as well", Ron said enthusiastically, pulling out his wand.

"They should not have mired the memorial sign and you will not do so either, Ronald", Hermione snapped at Ron and gave him a murderous look.

"Why not? If others have done it, I can do it as well! I'm not the first one! Also, I have to record that I was in such an awesome place! Oh, man! Fred and George will be so jealous! No one will believe me!"

Harry bowed his head. Had Ron seriously just said that?

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it again, opened it, only to close it immediately after. With each time opening and closing her mouth she got redder. "This is the place where Harry's parents were murdered, Ronald Weasley", her voice was barely above a whisper. "This is anything but _awesome_! Harry has lost his whole family in this house!" She stared at Ron incredulously, shaking her head slowly. "I cannot believe it."

Ron's eyes grew wide. "Oh, damn! Oh, I'm… oh, Merlin, Harry! I didn't even think about… Oh, I'm sorry!" Harry looked at Ron's shocked face.

"Be glad that you can forget that", and with these words he threw off the Cloak and strode to the open front door.

"Harry!" Hermione slapped Ron on the back of the head one last time and rushed after Harry – carrying the Invisibility Cloak in her hands – who was now standing in the hallway of the house and looked around.

The hallway was completely destroyed. Burn marks on the walls, on the floor and some on the discoloured ceiling were still partially recognizable. The banister had apparently caught fire during the battle James Potter had fought against Voldemort in order to give Lily time to escape. It was only half present and the edges were sooty and burnt. Next to it stood an old and withered pram. On the left hand-side had apparently been the kitchen. The counters were still visible, even if the window had cracked due to the weather conditions and all surfaces were covered in a thick layer of dust and grime. The way to the living room had collapsed and wooden beams were half fallen into the hallway. Harry's gaze didn't move further. He knew that his Dad had died there. At the foot of the stairs. Where the wooden beams practically barricaded the staircase. Whether they had collapsed after his death or whether his father had been crushed to the floor with the weight of half his roof on top of his body and thus had been trapped and at the mercy of Voldemort's curse? He did not know.

"Oh, my God!" 'Hermione's horrified whisper was accompanied by a faint moan as Ron entered the house.

Harry forced his eyes to look away from the spot where fifteen years prior his father has most likely, in an attempt to save his and his mother's lives, died. Harry looked toward the stairs. _Mum ran up these stairs with me in her arms when he came_, he thought and walked slowly toward said staircase. He hoped it was still usable and would allow him to go to the first floor. He walked gingerly along the edge of the staircase, step by step, until he finally arrived in the hallway, feeling relieved. To his left was a bedroom. Probably his parents' bedroom, to judge by the large double bed. He could not make out any colours. The dirt that had accumulated over the years was just too dominant, but judging by the furniture and from what he could see in spite of grime and dust, this room had once been a very tastefully decorated bedroom. He looked to his right. A bathroom. Further down the hallway to the left was a bedroom, also with a large bed and dresser, a closet, a desk and a night stand. A guest room? But the room he was looking for was now on his right – his old room.

The first thing that caught his eye as he looked into his old nursery was that the opposite wall seemed to be blown away. On the ground in front of that gaping hole lay the remains of what would have once been a cot. Wood splinters and bricks were scattered everywhere in the room which apperared to have been veered all across the room from the rebound of the curse and by the resulting explosion. Right in the corner stood a shelf with what looked like some books and stuffed animals, a small broom lay beside the shelf and diagonally in front of the cot were fragments of what Harry recognized had probably been a rocking chair.

"Holy shit", Ron whispered behind him causing Harry to jump. He had not heard them following him upstairs.

"Oh, Harry", Hermione put a hand on his shoulder which he pushed off and took a cautious step into the room.

"Be careful!"

Harry had discovered something in the rubble. Something beside the spot where he knew his mother had fallen to the ground after taking the curse. He tried to concentrate on this bulky something among the wood debris. It looked like a stuffed animal in the form of a wolf…? He crawled down to the former cot on his hands and knees, pushed some planks aside and picked up the soft toy. It wasn't a wolf, it was a stag.

Then many things happened at once. Hermione's scream, Ron's groan and the feeling of literally losing the ground from under his feet. Then everything went black.


	7. Dirt, Stags and Prongslet

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! :D I hope you enjoyed the holidays. I know I certainly did :D Enjoy reading :)

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Chapter 7 – Dirt, Stags and Prongslet

"Lily!" James ran up the stairs to the first floor, followed closely by his daughter. Once at the top, he sprinted down the hallway and turned right to the room in which his wife had locked herself in hours ago. She was still in the room, standing in front of the rocking chair, the plush stag, Harry's favourite toy, in her hands and stared wide-eyed on the floor in front of her. There was a pile of rags one could see – dirty rags that moved. Wait a minute! James took a step into the room und leaned forward. Those weren't rags! At least, not only. Before them lay stacked what looked like three people, clothes torn and extremely dirty. One of them had another garment in one hand, another held onto something small and shapeless. The lower two persons were pressed to the ground by another one lying on top of them.

"Dad? Who are these people?" Mary asked timidly, as she looked at the motionless strangers on the floor of her deceased brother's room. "Are they dead?"

James gave her a look. "Keep your distance, both of you", he said to the two women in his family and turned to the strangers before him. The hand of the person who was holding another garment twitched. _Those three are most definitely not dead_, he thought as he walked slowly toward them. It was three people, that much was already clear. But who were they? What were they looking for? Why were they in this state and the utter most important question, why in Merlin's old underpants were they in his house? Carefully, he reached out to them with one hand, the other one strengthened its hold on his wand, which he had pointed at the strangers. He gently placed his fingers on the neck of the person lying on top and felt for a pulse – weak and irregular. _Well, at least they do live!_

James stood up, pointed his wand at the first unwelcome visitor and muttered "_Wingardium Leviosa_" Immediately, the person hovered a few inches above the others and James directed them in the hallway, where he put the intruder on the floor. "Lily? Can you do me a favour and please watch over that one out there? And look for a wand. We don't want our uninvited guest to wake up and shoot curses everywhere."

Lily nodded, pulled out her wand, which she always carried in her pocket and walked shakily into the hallway to position herself having the stranger at wand-point. "_Accio wand!_" No sooner had she uttered the spell, a wand made out of ash wood flew into her direction. "James? You should disarm the others. This one had a wand", she called to her husband, who then threw two wand made out of holly and vine wood through the doorway, which Lily picked up immediately. Thereupon another person floated out of Harry's room, a girl. James steered her next to the boy, who was already lying in the hallway.

"These ones are a boy and a girl", Lily said and turned back to Harry's room.

"And this one's also a boy", James said, looking up at her.

"What do we do with them?" Mary stepped out of a corner of the nursery and looked at her parents expectantly. "St. Mungo's?"

"No, not St. Mungo's", James decided, eyeing the boy, who was still lying in front of Harry's old cot. "No, I think it's best to let Dumbledore know and then to bring them to the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey has an extra room behind her office, where the particularly nasty cases are being treated. Maybe she can treat those three in there? They look pretty battered. And when they wake up, we ask them how they got into our house."

"James?" Lily knelt beside the unconscious boy, who had been lying at the very bottom of the human pile of rags. "Look."

"What is it?" James looked at his wife quizzically. She had taken the shapeless, dirty item out of the unknown boy's hands and looked at it with an incredulous expression on her face.

"Do you know what this is?" She whispered, pointing at the piece of dirt in her hand.

"No, what can it be, really? I bet, it's just a…"

"Look carefully!" She held out the object and looked at him with wide eyes. "Look at it closely and tell me what you see!"

Sighing, he took the light thing from Lily and examined it, Mary eyes the object from over his shoulder. She looked taken aback. Her eyes darted from the thing in James' hand to the toy on the rocking chair and back again. "Is that…"

"Harry's stuffed animal?" Lily asked with a trembling voice and looked at her daughter. "Yes, it is."

"There're thousands of these plush animals!" James shook his head and returned the animal to Lily. "Anyone could have bought it."

"That's true, but give it a closer look", James took the animal back from his wife's hands and adjusted his glasses.

"Harry's stuffed animal has a dedication", Lily whispered, pointing to said toy lying on the chair, which she has dropped there when the three unknown people had appeared before her. "Look at the stag's underside, James!"

There it said '_For our little Prongslet_'. He frowned. He knew that sentence. That was the one they had put on… Mary walked over to the rocking chair, picked up the plush stag and turned it around. "_'For our little Prongslet'_", she read aloud and held the animal towards her father. "It is the same saying."

"And the same script", his voice was barely more than a whisper. "But how…"

"How it got here?" Lily's eyes were bloodshot from the previous hours. "I don't know."

"For now, let's get Dumbledore to come over", James said, slightly insecure and gave the dirty stuffed animal to his daughter. "I'll floo him." With these words he disappeared from his son's room, stepping over the two unconscious bodies in the hallway and hurried down the stairs into the living room to the fireplace.

Mary watched her father leave and frowned. Considering her parents' reaction due to the seemingly impossible situation that she held onto the horribly battered duplicate of her dead brother's favourite toy and be the fact that three strangers had appeared out of nowhere in this very room, could it be that…

Mary looked at her mother, who had not moved from her spot next the unconscious boy. "Mum?" Lily looked up and studied her daughter, as if she had not noticed that she had not been in the room only by herself. "What does that all mean? Harry's toy, which looked extremely broken and old by the way, these three people here… what does all of this mean? Is one of them", she gestured to the strangers in the hallway, "does that m-mean th-that one of them i-is Ha-…" Marry could not finish the sentence. It was impossible that her brother would come back to them. He was dead! And had been for fifteen years! She had been at his grave just a few hours ago. And why did those strangers, _if they really are strangers_, Mary shook her head – why did they have one of her brother's toys? Where did they get it? It was still right there on that chair and yet she had the exact same stag in her hands, just I a different material state.

She didn't understand anything anymore. Maybe it was better, Mary thought soberly, to just go back to Hogwarts and crawl into her four-poster bed and just lie there, not waking up for several days. Yes, maybe that was better.

On the floor next to the boy Lily's thought digressed into similar directions. But she had trouble putting them into words. Might this boy in front of her be her long ago deceased son? She ran her hand through his dusty hair. No, that was impossible. How could such a thing happen? People could not come back from the dead on the spur of a moment? That was not possible, even with dark magic. You could not topple the balance of the universe like that. It was impossible. _And yet_, Lily took the stuffed animal from the rocking chair and looked at it in detail. _And yet this stag is situated in Mary's hands at this very moment,_ she thought, frowning and looked back down at the boy, whose eyes were closed and who looked very pale. He needed medical attention and fast! A few minutes ago he had not been this pale. _James, where are you?_, Lily thought desperately and took the boy's hand in hers.

In the living room, a worried-looking Albus Dumbledore stepped out of the fireplace and into the cosy living room of the Potters.

"Where are they?" He asked, looking towards the living room door that led to the hallway and thus also to the stairs to the first floor.

"Upstairs, Albus. Lily and Mary are with them", James went to the stair and onto the next floor. "I was sitting in the kitchen with Mary after we have visited Harry's grave and suddenly we heard a loud bang and Lily's scream. She said she didn't know anything specific considering the three strangers appearing out of thin air and landing in a pile in front of her. I don't know how such a thing could have happened! To get through the wards, you either have to be family members or friends of the family – _real _friends of the family", he added hastily as they arrived at the landing.

Dumbledore nodded and walked over to the boy and the girl who lay side by side in the hallway. "You have disarmed them, I suppose?" Without waiting for James to answer, he knelt beside the girl on the floor and inspected her face accurately.

"Yes, of course", James said, reaching for the wands that Mary handed him. "These ones Lily has taken from them."

"Very well", Dumbledore said, without looking at the wands, which were held out to him.

James frowned irritated, then shrugged and decided to keep the three intruders' wands safe.

"Albus", Lily said as James went down the hallway to stow the wands. "Albus, the girl over there and this boy both had something with them. Besides the wands, I mean."

"Oh? And what is it they had on themselves, my dear?" Dumbledore looked over his half-moon glasses. His blue eyes sparkled.

"The girl had a very dirty cloak with her which she still has in her hand and this young man here had this on himself", she handed the stuffed animal over to the old headmaster and looked at him desperately.

"What does that mean, Albus? This is… Harry's favourite stuffed animal. And the same toy is behind you on the chair. I don't know what to make out of it, Professor."

Dumbledore looked at the old plush toy in his hands and turned his eyes to lily a few minutes later. "That I can, unfortunately, not tell you either, my dear, but I do have a guess. This, however", he added with a wink as Lily sat a little straighter, "I must check first. You surely understand, don't you?"

Lily lowered her head. "Yes, of course, sir." In Dumbledore's presence, it was not hard to fall back into old patterns of behaviour. It was just too easy to go back to have the impression to be a student sitting in front of one's headmaster.

"What shall we do with them, Albus?" James was back and knelt on the floor next to his wife. "I have thought that we should probably have those three examined by Madam Pomfrey, just to make sure. From what you can see under all the dirt this boy here is quite pale", he gestured to the boy whose hand Lily was still holding in hers.

"Yes, Poppy would certainly be a very good next step. I would have suggested that as well. St. Mungo's is just way too public, especially when the Potter family shows up", Dumbledore chuckled and turned to Mary. "What would you say, Ms. Potter, if you went ahead and informed Madam Pomfrey about our imminent arrival?"

"Um, okay, Professor", with a last look at the three young people in and in front of her brother's room she made her way into the living room and vanished in bright green flames right after the words "Hogwarts, Dumbledore's office" left her lips.

One floor above the three adults deliberated how they should proceed without a single student noticing the three unknown individuals being transported to the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts. They knew the risk, which they could impose, not to mention that the whole school and maybe even the Hospital Wing may be buzzing with students. The feast would end at any moment, which meant that all of Hogwarts was on their way to the appropriate Common Rooms.

"It would be the best, we flooed to my office and from there directly to Madam Pomfrey's office. Thus we avoid a major uprising and all the questions that would otherwise surely be provided by all of my inquisitive students", Dumbledore smiley at his two former pupils, took out his wand and pointed it at the boy who lay unconscious in front of Harry's old cot. With a small flick of his wand, the body rose into the air and hovered behind a contentedly humming Dumbledore leading the way. Lily and James also drew their wands and took care of the other two.

"What does all this mean, Headmaster?" The upset school nurse asked, barely, that they had stepped out of her fireplace. "Ms. Potter has stormed in here, demanding I follow her into my office. I have, of course, sent her to her Common Room immediately. But I got patients to look after, Albus! Some of the second year students have held a duel. One of them has an extra ear planted onto his forehead, which seems to be one of his friend's because he is missing one. Their friends all have orange skin and are covered in purple pustules."

"What Ms. Potter said has its accuracy, my dear Poppy", Dumbledore said soothingly and dismissed the Potters to walk through the door behind Madam Pomfrey's desk, which apparently let to the additional treatment room. "We have unknown visitors, who should, however, remain unseen be the student body. You'll be free to return to your patients very shortly, but first I must ask you to examine these three here and tell us all about them, everything that you can find out."

He stepped aside and gave the school nurse free access to the unknown trio.

"Well, they are extremely dirty", she said contritely and raised her wand. "I will first cast a few diagnostic spells to see if their health is at stake." She spun her wand with an elegant flick once on each of the unconscious bodies, conjured a piece of parchment and a quill for each bad, both of which she attached to each bed frame and watched as the quill sprang to life and scurried over the pieces of parchment in different tempos. From time to time she read what the quill was writing, otherwise she checked the bodies for obvious injuries and chanted further diagnostic spells. When the last quill flew across the room and hit her on the forehead, vanishing right after, the healer collected the parchments, huffed once and looked at the first sheet of paper in her hand which promptly fell to the floor.

"This cannot…" She raised a trembling hand to pick up the parchment and looked onto the yellowish sheet of thick paper with a horrified and equally confused expression. "That cannot be, that's impossible", she murmured. She seemed to have forgotten the other attendees completely. "That's impossible", her voice was getting quieter, the word flow faster. "No! I have performed the spell correctly, I'm sure of that! I've casted it so often that I could do it while sleeping. But how…"

"May I interrupt you, Poppy?" Dumbledore asked quietly and put his hand on the disgruntled witches shoulder. "What, may I ask, is so peculiar?"

Madam Pomfrey stared at him, blinked and looked back at her notes, she still held cramped in her hands. She flipped through them again and again. Her eyes widened with each look at the notes, she opened her mouth to answer, but closed it again and again.

She cleared her throat. "Well, Albus. I can tell you what is so peculiar", she croaked and cleared her throat once again. "These three young people here are dead."

Silence.

"Dead?" James asked, puzzled, walked over to the girl and felt for her pulse. "But she has a pulse. Although somewhat weak, but she has one." He looked at Dumbledore, who looked at the three newcomers with knitted brows. "If her heart is beating, how can she be…"

"What Madam Pomfrey means", Dumbledore said quietly, his hand still on Madam Pomfrey's shoulder, "is that they are dead in our world."

Lily looked confused at the old headmaster. If she was to judge James facial expression, he slowly began to believe Sirius' declarations considering the old wizard's state of mind. "_I'm telling you, man! That guy is crazy. A genius, I would be a total idiot to deny that, but he has totally lost his marbles. Must be the age. Oh Merlin, does that mean we'll become mad as well? I'm older than you, Prongs! Oh, maybe I'm already crazy! Am I crazy, Jamie?" _

"What do you mean '_in our world_'?" Lily looked from Professor Dumbledore to Madam Pomfrey and back again. "What do you mean by that?"

"I will explain it to you later, Lily", Dumbledore said, still facing the three supposedly-dead-but-somehow-alive people- "But right now I'm more interested in their current state of health. Poppy, would you be so kind?"

"But of course, Albus", she said, eyeing the pieces of parchment in her hands with great reluctance. She tried to ignore the names that were written on top of each parchment roll. "So, this young man here", she gestured to the boy who had been lying on top of the heap, "is actually quite healthy so far. He has a mild concussion, which is still fresh. In addition, he has broken his leg about three years ago. But nothing else is conspicuous. The girl", she pointed to the motionless figure lying in the middle bed, "is also of pretty good health. I could detect a concussion, but also a failed body transfiguration attempt, probably from Polyjuice Potion, and something I cannot quite interpret. Her body functions have been paralyzed for some reason, for several months. However, I have no idea how this could have happened and, above all, how she managed to survive. Well, this young man here, however", she gestured to the second boy, "has a slightly longer medical history. Numerous fractures, once even the loss of all his bones in one arm, concussions and so on. Also a case of malnutrition from in early childhood. However, what is worrying and in my opinion not possible is that he was hit with all of the Unforgivable Curses – and not just once."

Dumbledore's gaze went abruptly toward the nurse. "All the Unforgivable Curses? Are you sure about that, Poppy?"

"Yes, Albus. One hundred percent sure."

"Interesting." The wise wizard ran his hand slowly over his long beard and looked thoughtfully at said boy.

"How do you mean that, Poppy?" Lily asked dumbfounded and looked away from thr boy. "Are you saying that this boy is said to have survived the Killing Curse?"

"That's what I meant to say, Lily."

"Impossible", James whispered and all eyes turned to him. "Impossible", he said again. "No one can escape, let alone survive the Killing Curse! No one! That's why it's called 'The Killing Curse'. There is no living man who has experienced it being cast with him as the target and lived to tell the tale."

"Apparently so, my boy. The proof is here in the form of this rather thin young man lying in front of us."

After a brief, tense silence Dumbledore spoke again. "Can you give us the names of these three astonishing young people?"

"Of course, I can. But I must warn you – especially you, Lily and James. This might possibly be quite a shock."

Lily swallowed and James took her hand.

"This", Poppy pointed to the first boy, "is Ronald Billius Weasley."

"That's that possible! Ronald Weasley died five years ago in an attempt to rescue a girl from that troll!"

"I know, Lily. It was I who declared both of them dead. But said girl is lying next to him – breathing and very much alive. This is Hermione Jean Granger." Lily shook her head. How could that be? They were dead!

"And this young man here", Madam Pomfrey sighed, pointing at the boy, who was said to have survived the Killing Curse, "goes by the name of Harry James Potter."


	8. An Assumption

A/N: Here it is - Chapter 8. Enjoy reading :)

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Chapter 8 – An Assumption

James stared at the woman who had patched him up so many times. She had clearly lost her mind. Or he had lost his mind. Yes, one of the two it had to be. However, how much he hoped it would be the first, he regrettably figured it was the second – him losing his mind. Or Sirius started to rub off on him? Well, he had probably lost it all those years ago. Another explanation did not exist. He already realized that he was not the same after his son's death, but that it was this bad, he did not know. Oh well, better late than never. After all, Sirius was not to blame for everything – for many things, yes, but not for everything.

To his right, Lily had completely different thoughts. After hearing her son's name, she had become very little, still being hold in James' embrace; that's what she felt like, anyway. She was sure she would not be able to stand on her own, were James to let go of her now. She felt nothing except the warm strong arms of her husband and heard nothing but Madam Pomfrey's voice in her head. "And this young man goes by the name of Harry James Potter… by the name Harry James Potter… Harry James Potter…" _Harry!_ Her son!

"Oh dear", the school nurse said wearily and looking at the two petrified Potters. "I fear that they have suffered a shock, the poor dears. Would you help me to put them on the beds, Albus?" With a flick of her wand Poppy conjured two more beds out of nowhere, on which they placed the Potters. Now the room was getting rather crowded. "I rarely use this room but every time I do, it is too cramped", she muttered and took the glasses off of James Potter's nose. "I'll better give those two a Calming Draught. Maybe that will help. Albus, would you be so kind?"

After they had instilled a glass of pale blue potion into each shocked parent, she put them more bad than good on the adults' beds and waited for the potion to work.

James was the first to come back to his senses. He blinked, rubbed his hand over his face and sat up, grumbling. With a "Here you go, my dear", Madam Pomfrey gave him his round glasses, which, with a nod of thanks, he put onto his nose. "What happened?" He asked, confused and looked around the dim room. His gaze fell on Lily, who lay unconscious on the bed right next to him, and roamed slowly over three unconscious bodies lying on beds, which were pushed against the wall, and he remembered immediately. A bang, a scream, Lily, the intruders, the stag, _Harry!_ "Oh, Merlin", James groaned and blinked over to the boy, who was lying on the very right. "Oh, Merlin. Please don't tell me that really happened!"

"That what really happened, my boy?" Albus Dumbledore's eyes twinkled merrily. With a light chuckle, he winked at a morose-looking James Potter and smiles at him cheerfully.

"You're doing that on purpose, don't you?" James ran his hand through his already messy hair, grumbling, just as Lilly stirred with a low moan coming from her lips. "What…" She murmured softly, her eyes flew wide open the next second, she sat up and swung her body around in the direction of the boy, James had just looked at. "It's true, isn't it? Is this my little boy?" She whispered with glowing eyes. "Is that Harry?"

"I think we need to talk", Dumbledore said calmly, stood up and helped Lily to her feed. "I suppose, my office would be the best place for that conversation, don't you think?" With a nod to James, he turned around, got into the fireplace and disappeared in the flames.

"But…", Lily began to object, looking from the unconscious form of her deceased son to her husband, to the fireplace and back to her son again.

"I will give you notice if anyone of these three wakes up", promised Madam Pomfrey and led a still quite shaky Lily to the fireplace. "I don't approve of letting you leave now, but if Albus would have it", she huffed and gestured James to follow them. "Just promise me not to overdo it. And that means no running back and forth", she eyes James with a stern expression, who just smiles at her innocently. "Well then, the headmaster is waiting."

Once in Dumbledore's office, James had little time to look around because Lily come stumbling out of the fireplace not ten seconds after himself, and only kept some of her dignity thank to James who had caught her just before she had made an utter fool of herself. "Thanks", she murmured and added, with slightly red cheeks, "I hate Floopowder!" James winked at her and led her to one of the two chairs that were positioned in front of Dumbledore's desk.

Dumbledore waited until both were seated, crossed his fingers and looked at his former head students. James had Lily's left hand in his right and ran his thumb reassuringly over her palm. Everything would be fine.

Dumbledore smiles and took a deep breath. "Well, I suppose, as you have already indicated, you wish an explanation of what happened and I can understand you only too well. It is certainly not easy to lose one's child, only to see years later, said family member lying on a bed, breathing and aged in front of oneself", he cleared his throat and looked at the Potters. Lily's face was tense, James' showed no emotion what so ever. _The Auror Training also has its disadvantages_, Dumbledore thought dejected and focused back on the situation with which they had to deal at the moment.

"I cannot give you a complete explanation, which I already told you while we were still in Godric's Hollow, however", Dumbledore raised his finger, as Lily's face crumbled, showing her disappointment, "however, I have also said that I do have a hypothesis, which, at the moment, is based on assumptions only. Thus it may not perfectly reflect the truth. But I have decided to use the waiting time until our special guests wake up from their unconsciousness wisely and explain the rough outline of my conjecture to you." Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Well, I must first admit that I have never seen, read about or heard about anything like this before. To my knowledge, this situation in which we find ourselves at the time is unique and therefore I was not able to consult any literature to support my hypothesis. To make my chain of thoughts as understandable as possible for you, I would like to start at the very beginning. Well, it was alarming enough as James told me that three strangers have managed to get through your protective wards directly into your house without triggering the alarm in the process, but when Lily showed me the stuffed animal with the same dedication and yet the state the second toy was in so much worse. Let alone the face that something unique existed twice." Lily looked at James, who gave her a tired smile. She had been right. It was the same plush animal.

"This fact gave me no choice but to think beyond the normal boundaries of the wizarding world. We are so sure that what we see, what we are witnessing is the only way how things should happen, if that makes any sense. We think about '_What if…_' only to displace that thought almost immediately, since there is no point in thinking about the possible effects of individual decisions made by us. On this basis, I have built up my hypothesis. An example." Dumbledore stood up and walked slwly up and down in front of Lily and James, one arm folded across his chest, the other hand stroking over his white beard.

"Let us embrace the image of two little girls, who were best friends, getting into a dispute over a flower. The first girl wanted the flower for herself, but so did the second. Thus the first girl decided to pull on the flower until she got what she wanted, causing the flower to be torn in two pieces. The second girl, who was holding onto the flower, fell to the ground and began to cry. That's how their friendship ended. Had the first girl picked up another flower and not tried to own the original one, the second girl would not have fallen to the ground and both would have been happy. What I want to say is this option of selecting the path – so to speak – that would end their friendship or the other option in which their friendship survived that little argument. If she was to choose the first path, the two of them would not be friends anymore and each of them would eventually find new friends and go their own way. However, were she to choose not the first but the second path, the friendship could possibly last a lifetime. Do you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Dumbledore paused and looked at the two mute parents in front of him.

"Does that mean that there are always several ways in which people can act, but which have different impacts on their lives?" James asked, frowning. That was obvious, why was Dumbledore wasting their time?

"Yes and no", Dumbledore said and walked over to the window, which offered him a good overview of Hogwarts' grounds. "What I want to say is that if one chooses a path, there is always a second, maybe even a third or fourth path that brings a different course of events with them. MY guess is, and I'd like to point out that this is purely a hypothesis, that at every intersection, leading to all the different paths one can choose from, something like a new world is created. A new dimension, if you want to call it that. Let's focus once again on the story of the two little girls. We're imagining the scene of both girls holding onto the flower. The first girl now has the opportunity to go one way or the other. If she was to choose the way her stubbornness gains the upper hand, another dimension would split itself from the already existing one, in which the girl chose the friendship as her priority. As of this moment, there are two dimensions in which both situations exist, in the first one, the girls cherishing their friendship and in the other, however, going their own way and never meeting again. Applying this assumption to our situation now…"

"You mean", Lily said with a soft voice, "that the Harry, who is lying in the Hospital Wing really is our son? Our living son from another dimension, because a different decision was made in his world, thus causing Harry's survival?" With bloodshot eyes, she looked at her former headmaster. Could she dare to hope?

"This is what I was trying to say", Dumbledore said with a smile and sat down behind his desk. "How those three have managed to travel through the dimensions is beyond me, but I'm sure once they are awake, we should be able to gather more information."

At that moment, there was a knock at Dumbledore's door and the head of Madam Pomfrey appeared. "Ms. Granger is awake, Albus."

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A/N: Leave a comment :D


	9. The Balance of Nature

A/N: Here is the 9th chapter. Enjoy reading :)

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Chapter 9 – The Balance of Nature

"Ah, Ms. Granger. I'm glad you are awake!" Albus Dumbledore stepped into the back room of the Hospital Wing and smiled happily at the still pretty battered Hermione. "How are you, if I may ask?"

"Quite all right, Professor", replied the girl. "We're sorry that we haven't been at the cemetery at the agreed time, but… um, Professor? What kind of room is this?" Confused, she looked around, only now realizing that she was not in the normal Hospital Wing.

"You are in a back room of the Infirmary. I have taken the liberty to ask Madam Pomfrey here to treat you far away from prying eyes." Hermione nodded slowly. "Thank you, sir."

"No worries", Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with amusement as he looked at the young woman before him. "May I ask, what exactly you meant by the agreed meeting?"

Hermione frowned. "You don't remember, sir? You told us that you would pick us up after a few hours. Harry wanted to see his parents' house, so we went there, but the ground collapsed. We must have lost consciousness", she looked to her side and her eyes widened. "Sir! How are Ron and Harry? Why are they not awake yet?"

"Please stay calm, Ms. Granger. Everything is quite all right. The two gentlemen are just unconscious and will probably wake up within the next few hours. But, I want to ask you something else if you don't mind. What exactly is the last thing you remember doing? Please do cogitate about the details. You said the floor in Mr. Potter's parents' house collapsed?"

"Yes, sir. You have dropped us in Godric's Hollow, so Harry would be able to visit his parents' graves. We then had some time left, so we decided to search for Harry's old house. We went into it. I was against it because it looked quite dilapidated and in danger of collapse, but it was so important to him! Well, Harry went up the stairs and quite determined approached a room. The furniture was barely visible because almost everything was destroyed. I suppose the curse that has rebounded off of him has caused that kind of damage. The entire wall and parts of the roof were missing. Harry seemed to have seen something on the ground that interested him, for he knelt down and crawled to a point before him. The next thing I remember is that the rotten floor gave way and we were falling. After that, I only know that I woke up and Madam Pomfrey told me not to move."

"Interesting", murmured Dumbledore, who had stood during Hermione's explanation and was walking back and forth. "Interesting indeed."

"Excuse me, sir, but what is interesting?" Hermione sat up and looked over to her headmaster.

"Well, Ms. Granger, I'd like to ask you to hear me out, even, if what I am about to tell you may sound somewhat incomprehensible and confusing to you. You may, of course, ask questions after my statements", Dumbledore sat back in his chair, turned to Hermione, wearing a calm expression and began to talk.

"That went quite well", a smiling Dumbledore said, leaving the nurse and an anew unconscious Hermione behind.

At the same time the Potters were sitting with their two best friends Remus Lupin and Sirius Black in Dumbledore's office and discussed the things Lily and James had just recently found out.

"Another dimension, huh?" Sirius Black slumped into a chair. "And he is certain about this?"

"No, he isn't! He has pointed out quite a few times that this is all just a guess, based purely on ideas, but Dumbledore's suspicions usually prove to be right after some time", exhausted, James ran a hand through his ruffled hair and closed his eyes for a moment.

"So, your dead son is lying a floor below us?" Remus kicked Sirius against his shin and gave him an angry look.

"Very charming, Paddy, but yes, I think so."

"Wow… those are indeed some news!"

This was followed by a few minutes of tense silence. Everyone was lost in their thoughts. None of the four adults could wrap their head around it. What kind of man would he be? Lily and James had thought a lot about Harry's future after the birth of the latter. They had made plans for Harry's upbringing; when he would get his first toy broom - well, that plan Sirius messed up – when he would get his first professional broom stick and be allowed to fly without supervision, where he would be allowed to fly, what they would do if he came into his petulant years… All these plans had been destroyed with the murder of their child. Mary was a whole different story. She had been quite late in showing any special interest in Quidditch. Oh Merlin, _Marry_! How should they explain to Mary that her brother was alive? That although Harry's grave wasn't empty, her brother had returned to their family? Being healthy? How would she react? She knew only stories of him when he was a baby. They all knew him as a little kid! They had no idea what kind of person the almost adult Harry was. Lily put her head into her hands and tried to stay calm. He was a sixteen-year-old wizard, in a year he would be of age and they had missed all these years! _How did he grow up?_ Well, her counterpart in Harry's world must have seen her son grow up. That would mean he would at least know her and James. And they both just had to make four times as much effort to get to know him. But what if the Lily of Harry's world was different than what she was like in reality? She was slowly starting to build up a headache from all these confusing thoughts. Had Madam Pomfrey not said something about malnutrition? Oh, God! At least some answers to these questions, she had to get as quickly as possible, otherwise she would soon lose her mind.

With this thought Lily jumped out of her chair, turned on her heel and grabbed the hand of a puzzled James and marched to the door that led from Dumbledore's office, hell-bent on getting to know her son, dragging James after her. When she was about to haul her confused-looking husband out of the room, she was stopped by a smiling Albus Dumbledore, who took the wind out of her sails with the phrase "All three are still, or once again, unconscious." Blinking, she eyed the old wizard in front of her as if he just announced that he has recently passed a pink dress on to Severus Snape.

"Is it really true, Albus?" Lily turned to Remus, who looked Dumbledore straight in the eye. "Is it really Harry?"

"Harry and Hermione and Ronald, yes. I have asked Ms. Granger to explain the last events which she can remember and it has at least given me the answer to the question of how they could end up in the room Lily was staying in at that time. Of course, the obvious policy of the Protections Spell shall be ignored for the time being, because, let's face it, if that young man is indeed Harry, and that is undeniable", he added hastily, as Sirius opened his mouth to interrupt him with a question of his own, "it is clear that he was able to pass through the wards based on family ties without having any further problems doing so. He is after all a member of this family", Dumbledore smiled at Lily and James and turned to his desk. "According to Ms. Granger, those three have been in that very room, right before the dimension travel, as the floor collapsed and all of them lost consciousness."

"As the floor collapsed?" James muttered and looked at Dumbledore with a deep frown. "Why should the floor collapse? If we live in that house, it is not so shabby, like…"

"This is precisely the point, James", Dumbledore said, now again sitting in the huge armchair behind his desk. "This is my point, exactly, because if we pay attention to Ms. Granger's words and put faith into them, which I think we should indeed do, than the logical consequence is that no one has lived in that house for roughly two decades."

As neither James nor Lily responded to this statement, Dumbledore asked Remus and Sirius to pull the two out of their stupor and lead them to the two free chairs in the room.

"It would be better if you both sat down so I can explain the reason for the condition of your house."

James took Lily's hand in his and smiled at her reassuringly.

"According to Ms. Granger my counterpart has brought the three to Godric's Hollow, so Harry would be able to visit the grave of his parents."

"The grave of his… does that mean, James and Lily are…dead?" Sirius stared at Dumbledore in disbelief.

"In Harry's world, yes. In this world that is quite obviously not the case", he chuckled and winked at said parents, who could not find it in themselves to share his amusement at this moment.

Dumbledore cleared his throat awkwardly and continued. "I have introduced you two to my theory two hours prior. That people have multiple paths of decision-making opportunities with several of the following events to choose from, in every second of their lives. I suspect, and I am relatively sure after what Ms. Granger has told me about their Halloween 1981, that the two of you have chosen a different path that day, or more accurately, that _I _have gone another path and have therefore affected your further actions as well. So many years ago, I have got an owl from the Ministry and have decided to inform you two immediately. This fatal decision has persuaded you to contact Mr. Pettigrew as Harry's babysitter, which has ended, to our all regret, in Harry's death. But in the world of Ms. Granger, I have apparently decided not to consult you two immediately, because both of you have been present when Voldemort tried to kill Harry. Both of you have given your life you Harry. In hope of protecting Harry, you have sacrificed yourselves. Through your sacrifice, Lily, strengthened by James', you have been able to provide Harry with some kind of shield, as Ms. Granger put it, what has been the reason that Voldemort's Death Curse directed at little Harry has rebounded and therefore destroyed Voldemort's body. Harry survived with nothing more than a curse wound on the forehead which has the shape of a lightning bolt. As you can see, the prophecy has made a complete U-turn in our world, compared with the one Ms. Granger and the others come from."

This was all too much for him. James had closed his eyes some time ago and mainly concentrated on the feeling of Lily's hand in his. It was a comforting feeling to have her near him – it had always been, even when Lily had not yet returned his feelings. All he wanted to do at that moment was to lie down in his huge double bed in Godric's Hollow, to close his eyes and sleep for the rest of the day. His headache, which had begun to bother him in the course of the events, had become so painful that he could no longer ignore it. He would take a Pain Relieving Potion once he got home, or, if they were allowed to see Harry lather on, maybe ask Madam Pomfrey for one. At the thought of telling Mary, he felt sick all over again. It seemed to be a month ago that they all have stood side by side in front of Harry's grave and have let their grief overpower them. The fact that it had only been this morning was incredible for James. It had happened so much in such a short amount of time that it made him feel dizzy. And dizziness and headaches at the same time in the same head sis not get along too well.

Dumbledore continued to talk and did not seem to atop any time soon. Lily looked over to James, who has not moved for the last few minutes and saw that he had closed his eyes and clutched her hand as if his life depended on it. She ran her free hand through his dark hair and kissed him on the cheek. He gave her a tired smile. She knew how he felt right now. Just this morning they had visited their son in the cemetery, once again having to witness the funeral in front of their inner eye all over again and not six hours later he had returned to them – alive, sixteen years old and not a little kid anymore. But he was their son. And he needed them now. Especially after what they had just heard from Dumbledore. They had not been there to watch him grow up, him getting his Hogwarts Letter, the first time he had gone to Diagon Alley and had bought his wand. They had missed so much and there was so much to catch up on.

"But first and foremost", said Dumbledore calmly and cleared his throat. Lily and James winced and had the decency to look slightly embarrassed. Sirius grinned, Remus simply shook his head. With a smile, Dumbledore continued. "First of all, you should tell your daughter about the events that have taken place so far. She has a right to know that her brother has returned. Meanwhile, I shall think about a way to send those three back into their own world."

"What?" James jumped to his feet. "No! You cannot… I mean… Harry cannot… No! We haven't even seen him yet!" James yelled and glared angrily at the old coot in front of him. "You can't sent him back!"

"We just got him back!" Lily stalked over to the desk and stared Dumbledore right in the eye. "Woe betide you take our son away from us a renewed time!" And with that, she stormed over to the fireplace, threw a handful of Floo Powder into the flames, yelled "Godric's Hollow, Prongs' Shelter!" and disappeared with a final glowing glare in Dumbledore's direction in to angrily lashing flames. James followed her without looking back.

Dumbledore sighed and looked over at Sirius and Remus. Sirius' facial expression was similar to that which he had seen on the face of the desperate mother, Remus just examined him appraisingly.

"Could you both please tell them that I do not have any intentions to take away their son? I will only do some research. Maybe I will find something, but I honestly doubt it. I know of no record of such a situation, so I won't be able to find a way into the other world anytime soon – at least not without hearing the versions of Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter." Dumbledore took his half-moon spectacled from his nose, massaging his temples. "Remus, would you be so kind as to send Ms. Potter into my office? I will give her a week off. If she asks questions, just say, her parents will explain everything once she is home."

"Of course, Albus", Remus said and walked out of the office.

"And you, Sirius, maybe you could soothe both Potters? I do not think they would listen to me right now."

Sirius looked at him, frowning for a few seconds, then shrugged and turned to the fireplace. "I hope you stand to your word, Albus. If they lose Harry one more time, it would destroy them. And I would not necessarily be on your side." With a blaze of flames Sirius was gone.

Sighing, Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and locked into the still turbulent flames. "Who would have thought that it could be so difficult to preserve the Balance of Nature?"

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A/N: Next chapter: How will Mary react as she finds out that her long dead brother is back and alive?


	10. Overlapping Dimensions

A/N: Here is chapter 10. This story has 12 chapters, so there're still two more to be uploaded ;) Enjoy reading :)

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Chapter 10 – Overlapping Dimensions

Once home Lily stormed through the living room into the hallway, up the stairs and into the nursery of her son. He couldn't even think '_of her deceased son_' anymore! He was dead, but somehow wasn't. It was all so confusing.

She grabbed the stuffed animal, with which this whole think had started in the first place, and sat down in the rocking chair, in which she had spent so many hours spending time with her son, showing him picture books, telling him stories about her time at Hogwarts or just to sing to him. All of those precious times were just memories now and she did not do well to desperately hold on to them, as she had done all these years. She had been on the right track – getting better. She had gone back to work as a healer at St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, had arranged to meet with friends, had had fun. Sure, she could not and would not forget Harry, but she had to live her life again and she had accomplished that all right. But from this day on everything was so confusing, the old, already scarred wounds tore open again and she wasn't even allowed to follow her maternal instincts and look after her baby! HE was her son! He was hurt and needed her!

The stuffed animal trembled in her hands. How dare he? Dumbledore! In the next moment, she was on her feet, grabbing onto the stuffed animal as if her life depended on it and marched back and forth. How could he dare to refuse her access to her son? The boy she would have raised. The boy she hadn't been able to hold in her arms for the last fifteen years, let alone being able to see him, as he was lying several meters in the earth in the cemetery at Godric's Hollow! And this old man who didn't know _anything _about motherly feelings, who probably didn't even know what she had had to go through in the last couple of years and went through now, who probably did not even know the _feeling_ of being looked at by one's own child with big eyes and be called "Mummy" – or in his case "Daddy"… this man dared to take away the one thing she needed the most right now! She huffed and glared at the book shelf, as if it had just announced it would be on the naïve old man's side. Oh, how she wanted to tell him her opinion! How much she wanted to accuse him of inflicting so much pain on her and simply pushing past him to run to the Hospital Wing where her son was waiting for her.

Someone hesitantly clearing his throat tore her out of her rage tantrum and she looked over to her husband, who was leaning against the wooden door frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He took a deep breath as he watched his beat read wife stare at him and cautiously walked over to her. "We'll see him soon", he said in a trembling voice and timidly took her into his arms. He had seldom seen Lily so angry. The last time – before the period of mourning had turned into the 'It's all my fault'-phase and she had bathed herself in self-hatred – was when they had left Harry with Sirius, so they could have had a cosy evening in the nearby pub. When they had got back home they had seen a giggling Harry sitting on the floor, his godfather staring at him slack-jawed. On the question of what had shocked Sirius so much, the latter had only looked at them with a guilty expression and winced, as Harry had said his first word. "Pafoo!" Lily had literally exploded after hearing that. Harry's first word and it had not been "Mamma" or "Dadda"! No! It had been "Padfoot"! James had not been delighted either, but he could have hardly asked Sirius for an explanation, because he had been too busy keeping a crimson and murderously angry Lily away from his friend and trying his best to somewhat calm her down.

"But when, James?" Lily squirmed out of his arms and began to once again move up and down in the little room they were in right now. "It cannot be that this… this _man_", she hissed the word with so much hatred that James winced, "forbid us to see our son! Harry is in the Hospital Wing and is injured and unconscious and we don't even know _what_ exactly _is _injured, how long it will take him to return to full health, and everything he has to say is 'He is unconscious'. Great! Absolutely brilliant! Exactly what I want to hear!" Fuming, she turned to James, who was eyeing her, somewhat afraid.

"This is our son, James!"

"I know that, Lily. And believe me when I say I want to see him just as much as you do! And I don't understand Dumbledore's motivations either right now, but as much as it hurts, he surely has his reasons!" James went over to Lily and this time she didn't try to escape his embrace. "Madam Pomfrey said he would awake during the day. We can't do more than wait. And whether we sit at his bed waiting or whether we use this time to think of a plan on how to tell Mary, it doesn't matter. We will see Harry today. Just not now." _Since when am I the rational and reasonable one?_

Lily sighed and rested her forehead on James' shoulder. "But what if he wakes up and we're not there. He will be so confused when Madam Pomfrey tells him that…"

"According to Hermione, he is used to the knowledge that we won't be at his bedside when he awakes, Lily." Hearing these words, she winced and James held her even tighter. "I think it's best if he gets prepared to the fact that we're still alive. He had to live his whole life without having us by his side. I think it will overwhelm him even more if we're there with him right in the moment he wakes up and you start to mother him."

With a smile, James squeezed the now slightly giggling Lily and pressed a light kiss on top of her head. "Believe me, he will need time and so do we."

"You're probably right", James muttered and smiled at him through her tears.

"Me and being right? Wow, for the first time!"

Laughing, Lily playfully punched him on the arm. "Don't get used to it!"

James grinned mischievously and kissed her on the nose. "That's what I feared."

"Lily? Jamie?", "We're up here, Padds!" James hugged Lily one last time. "We'll be all right", he whispered in to her ear.

Loud footsteps followed and a few moments later an outraged-looking Sirius shuffled into the room. "Dumbledore doesn't plan on taking Harry away from you and before you'll start to yell at me", he added quickly, "he said that. That doesn't come from me."

"What makes you think I would yell at you?" James frowned and sent a wry grin in his friend's direction.

"Not you, her", Sirius said, pointing at Lily, who turned her head in his direction, irritated.

"Why would I yell at you?"

"Oh, Evans", Sirius said in a sing-song voice and winked at her. "As much as you'll hate to hear that now, but I can read you like an open book! And that our dear Jamie here has spent years only talking about you has probably helped as well. Something just had to remain stuck in my overly handsome head from these brainless drivels!"

"Oi! I'm never the source of brainless drivel!"

"Oh, you're not?" Lily grinned mischievously at her husband and disappeared out of the room, swinging her hips from one side to the other.

"Well, I'm sorry, Prongs, but she seems to wear the breeches in this relationship!"

"Why do I have such mean friends?" James muttered and followed his wife into the kitchen. When James and Sirius turned around the corner, they were greeted by Mary, who sat at the dining table next to her mother with a cup of tea in her hands.

"I'm off", Sirius patted James on the back, kissed Lily on the cheek and whispered, as he went past his best friend, a faint "Good Luck", before he disappeared into the fire.

"Uncle Remus said, I have a week off", the youngest Potter said and took a sip of tea. "Is there any particular reason for that?"

"Mary", Lily began, shooting an insecure look in James' direction. "We need to discuss something with you. "It's important."

"Okay", Mary took another sip of tea and eyed her parents curious. "What's up?"

But before any of them could say anything, Mary interrupted them. "If it has to do with a steaming slime at the Slytherin table, I'm innocent."

"What steaming slime?" Lily asked, puzzled and looked at her daughter suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing", Mary smiled at them innocently.

"Mary Lilian Potter, what do you mean by slime at the Slytherin table?"

"Oh, all three names", James muttered sheepishly, looking back and forth between his wife and daughter.

"Doesn't matter, Mum", the latter said cheerfully. "You wanted to tell me something?"

"Be glad that what you are home for is important, because otherwise I would drag you to Minerva's office immediately. Probably James as well, while I'm at it."

"What does this have to do with me?"

"You've probably told her a few too many Marauder stories and have put the idea in her head that a Potter had to – what did you always call it?" Lily feigned to think this question through thoroughly. "Oh yes, _heat up the atmosphere_." Lily smiled at him.

"Mum?" Mary interrupted her parents as her father opened his mouth, with a playfully indignant expression, to defend himself.

"Well, daughter", James began, and turned away from a still smirking Lily Potter. "As your mother just now so aptly said", he threw a glance at Lily, forgetting their banter and becoming serious again, "we actually have something to tell you." He cleared his throat and looked at his wife for help.

"As we have come back from the cemetery this morning, I have gone upstairs immediately, as you know", Lily began uncertainly, looking at her daughter. "You know as well that for whatever reason, three teenagers have appeared out of nowhere, all three of them unconscious."

Mary nodded.

"When we have brought the three to the Hospital Wing, Madam Pomfrey had immediately started to treat them. Intruders or not, we've wanted to know whether they have had any serious injuries. She has casted a few Diagnostic Spells, including a spell that shows the patient's current state of health, but also their medical history, including their names and date of birth." She looked over to James, who continued.

"You have to know that this spell, if done correctly, does not lie. Even if your Mum would cast this spell on a strange man, who has appeared in Sirius' bedroom and the spell was to tell us that this man was Severus Snape, we would know that Sirius would be lying if he said he wasn't an item with Snape."

Mary giggled and Lily kicked James' shin under the table.

"Ouch! Lily, that hurt!" James ignored the muttered "_It was meant to hurt_" and continued with his explanation.

"Well, you know that I mean. Anyway, Madam Pomfrey has found out that none of them had any kind of serious injuries, except for concussions and superficial wounds. However, as she has told us the names of those three, we've all been very confused, including Madam Pomfrey, because the spell has given us names, of which we knew that the people associated with them have been dead for several years."

"What do you mean, Dad?" Mary looked from her father, who was staring intently at his hands, to her mother, who was stirring her now cold tea. "Who are those three?"

"Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger are those two, who have been lying in the hallway", Lily whispered, looking down at her cup, which trembled slightly in her hands. She could not bring herself to say his name. "Molly's son and Hermione have been killed by a troll a few years ago. I have assisted Poppy to exhibit their death certificates." The Weasleys were close friends of the family. Ginny, although one year above her daughter, was one of Mary's closest friends. After Ronald's death, Lily had offered them to take care of the arrangements for his funeral, but they had refused. Although Lily was capable to understand how Molly felt, the grieving mother had told her she would have to organize everything herself to be able to accept the horrific events. Since that moment, the Potters had visited the Weasleys more often and had shared their experiences with them. Thanks to the rather sad occasions, a deep friendship had started to develop between the two wizarding families.

"Who is the third?" Mary asked. She didn't know how it could be possible for dead people to return and appear in their house, lying on the ground injured and unconscious, but that question would have to be answered later on.

James stood up and sat down at the table next to Lily, wrapped his arms around her and whispered soothing words in her ear. After a few minutes he looked up and focused his inscrutable expression on Mary. "Harry James Potter."

Mary blinked at her parents. "What? Harry? Our Harry?"

Lily nodded.

She stared at her parents as if they had lost their minds. Harry was dead! They made sure she wouldn't forget that. How could she, even if she tried? Pictures of him and her parents were everywhere in their house. Pictures of her as well, but Harry's photos were treated like sanctuaries. Was she to take one off the wall to look at it, she would put it back an hour later to its exact original spot. When Mary had been younger, she had once pushed a picture of her brother from the window sill while playing and the glass protecting the photo had shattered, leaving her and two days of house arrest as the consequence. Two days because of a stupid picture! Sure, she loved to listen to stories about her brother and she wished for nothing more than to have been able to get to know him. When she had been little, she had each time blown out the candles on her birthday cake, not wishing for a broom or new books like every other child of her age, no, she had wished to get to know her brother. When, after years the wish had not been fulfilled, she had begun to wish for Harry to know how much he was missed and how much she wanted to see him. A little jealousy had always been present, but the desire had been stronger, even today. And now her wishes would finally come true? Finally, she would get the chance to see her brother? To talk to him? She really doubted that. What if the spell had failed? What if hoping for the unthinkable to happen would only leave them heart-broken again? The pain of such a disappointment would almost be as strong as loosing Harry all over again and in a weird and twisted kind of way that would be the case.

She looked at her mother, who smiled at her through the tears that were still running down her cheeks. Her Dad still embraced her and ran his hand reassuringly over her red hair. _They believe it_, Mary thought involuntarily. _They really believe that Harry's back_. But the dead didn't just come back to life. No magic, as dark as it may be, could raise the dead from the grave. It was just impossible! Her parents had told her themselves!

Why did they believe this illusion? She decided to ask this question out loud. "Why do you believe that someone has somehow managed to trick Death?" Her eyebrows rose until they disappeared into her hair line. "It isn't possible to revive dead people. That you yourselves have told me and yet you sit there and be all happy and delighted that supposedly Harry is alive again!" How naïve could they be? Were they desperate enough to reach for the most unbelievable, irrational illusion to just be able to live in the belief that their son had returned from the dead and we would all live together happily ever after?

"Dumbledore has an explanation for it", Lily said quietly, nodding at James, who slowly released her from his tight embrace but didn't leave her side. "We have reacted just like you, Mary. It is impossible to revive the dead. No magic in the world is capable of doing so. But Dumbledore's conjecture has proved to be correct after talking to Hermione. He only needs to speak to the other two, just to be sure. He said it is possible that not only our world exists, but many others parallel to ours as well. Like different dimensions, different coursed of events of people's individual lives in different orbits, if you can picture it."

Lily sat up straighter and began to retell Dumbledore's theory of the appearances of already dead people.

"…and that's why he had survived in his world. One person has made a different decision and another pathway has formed, in which we have died but Harry didn't.

"Somehow, the worlds seem to have overlapped", James said, running a hand through his jet-black hair, which resembled his son's so much. "Something must have happened that has caused the two dimensions – ours and Harry's – to fuse for a moment and thus the three youngsters have been able to enter our dimension. As I said, Dumbledore is confident in many respects but he's not quite sure about how something huge like this could possibly have happened. For this he will need Ronald and Harry's versions of what has been the last thing they have done before losing consciousness."

Mary had covered her face with her hands and groaned. Why did everything have to be so damn complicated? She rubbed her eyes and slowly looked over to her parents, who eyed her with worried expressions. She took a deep breath and blew all the air back out again.

"So it's true? Harry lives?"

Lily nodded, a slight smile forming on their faces.

"Well? What are we waiting for?" Mary suddenly said, jumping to her feet.

"What 'what are we waiting for'?" James asked, puzzled and stood up as well.

"What are we sitting around here for? I want to meet my brother!"

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A/N: Next chapter: Harry's reaction to the most shocking news of his life and his meeting with his family :D


	11. For the First Time in his Life

A/N: I really didn't think I would be capable of uploading this chapter as soon, because I have an exam coming up next week... But I did it somehow. Don't ask me how^^ Enjoy reading and don't forget to leave a comment :D

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Chapter 11 – For the First Time in his Life

"Harry! Come on! Wake up", grumbling, said young man turned around again and pressed his face into his pillow. "Wake up! I know you can hear me", Hermione poked his side and sighed as he sleepily tried to push her hand away from him. This bed was just so wonderfully soft and warm! "Ron, no! Ron, don't do that! That is…" _Splash!_

Harry spun around and thudded on to the cold stone floor. "That was unnecessary, Ronald!"

Scowling, Harry wiped his wet hair out of his face and glared at his so-called best friend. "What was that for?"

"Hermione's constant 'Harry get up' was slightly annoying and since you didn't listen to her, I thought I'd take over the job of waking you", Ron smirked at a totally soaked Harry and gave him a hand up. "Come on, let's get you dry. Hermione has something important to tell us."

When Harry's clothes weren't soaking wet anymore, he sat down on his once again dry bed, Ron joined Hermione, both with a serious expression. Harry raised his eyebrows and looked over to Ron, who just shrugged. "So", Hermione said, stood up and walked up and down in the little room. "Where do you think we are right now?"

"Um", Ron scratched his nose. "Well, judging by the beds we're in some kind of infirmary, aren't we?" He stared at Hermione. "Why?"

"Not only are we in any infirmary, we're in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts", Hermione said, stopping in front of her two friends, who looked at her as if she had lost her mind.

"Wow, Hermione! At Hogwarts. Why didn't I think of that myself?" Ron rolled his eyes and winked at Harry. "Where should we be if not here?"

"No, you don't understand what I mean! We are not at Hogwarts! Well, technically we are, sort of, but not really", Hermione bit her lip, thinking. How did one tell their friends that they had travelled through time and space, had ended up in another universe, where all of them were dead and would probably get to see one's dead parents again, who had supposedly died fifteen years ago, and who would probably march into the room without further warning. She shook her head. Her dusty hair, caused by their fall in Godric's Hollow, was back to its original light brown colour, but wasn't back to its tidily organized crow's-nest-look. It was all a huge mess. How would have to deal with it in a couple of hours. But how? She doubted that would be possible. At the moment her hair looked worse than Harry's and that was saying something.

"What's your point, Hermione?" Harry looked at her calmly. Oh, God! How should she tell him what she was about to tell him? _'Well, Harry, you see, we ended up in another universe, why I cannot explain to you, but Dumbledore said that once we're awake, which is indeed the case now, your parents would like to see you. But don't worry, I'm sure they aren't Death Eaters. They really do live!'_ Yeah, great. She had absolutely no idea how she should explain that to the two in front of her – especially to the one with the black hair – without strengthening the impression of her totally losing it and without having Harry faint or have the two boy attacking her, thinking she must be an intruder of some sorts, because the real Hermione would never babble such bullshit.

"'Mione?" She winced as she felt Harry's hand on her shoulder. He had stood some time during her panicked discussion with herself and had walked over to her. Ron still sat on the bed, just like he had done a few minutes ago, and stared at her as if she had finally lost her mind.

Hermione cleared her throat and Harry smiled at her timidly. "Maybe you should sit down", she murmured to him softly and watched as he sat down on his bed again with a slightly confused expression, but not without patting on the blanket right next to him, asking her to come closer.

With a sigh, she sat down next to Harry, closed her eyes for a moment and began to speak.

"So if one sums it up", she said with a slightly trembling voice, "we are in some kind of parallel existence where the three of us are dead, our parents are living and where Dumbledore has not the slightest clue of we could someday get back home." She looked from Harry, who was staring at her with his mouth slightly open, to Ron, who had turned crimson, and back to Harry.

When, after a few minutes, still neither of them had said anything, her nervousness gained the upper hand. "So? What do you say?"

Ron was the first one who regained his composure. He blinked and looked furtively over at Harry, who still did not move. "Well, there isn't really any change for the both of us, right Hermione? I mean, we have a family at home, so…" With a glance at Hermione, he shut up abruptly. She glared at him and pointed at Harry.

Said person didn't even notice that the other two were talking, he was much too busy to get his confused and excited thoughts under control and order. Hermione had said his parents were alive. _His parents_! Was it true? Perhaps Hermione was just as confused as he was at the moment. No, it had to be right. She had said that Dumbledore had explained everything as he and Ron still had been unconscious. But what did that mean for him? In his world, as strange as that sounded, he had grown up without parents. He had lived with his mother's sister who had never really cared much about him. Why should one take care of a freak, anyway? When he had been younger, he had always imagined what his life would be like if his parents had chosen Sirius and not Pettigrew as their Secret Keeper. Before he had started attending Hogwarts, his aunt and uncle had always given him the same anther when he had dared to ask about his parents. _'Your parents have been good for nothing no-goods. Died in a car accident, and rightly so, I tell you! They have been drinking! Had been totally wasted! And now don't ask any more questions, boy!'_ He could never believe that his parents had supposedly been 'good for nothing no-goods', as Uncle Vernon had called it. He had always known from a gut feeling that they had loved him. With Hogwarts came the explanation for their deaths and the certainty that everything would have been different, had his parents still been alive. And here, in this world, they were said to still be alive! What it would be like to have parents, Harry wondered. He had always envied Ron and Hermione – they had a family, they had parents. Even if he were to have no siblings, just like Hermione, he would have given anything to have real parents, but he also had to realize that not everything could be conjured with magic.

In the background, he heard Hermione hiss at Ron. He jumped as a warm hand brushed his cheek lightly. Blinking, he looked up at Hermione, who looked at him with a sad smile. He did not stop her as she wiped away his tears. He couldn't stop them stop fall anyway – couldn't stop the tears and wouldn't stop Hermione. It was all just too much for him. In one moment, he went through a completely destroyed house, through the house in which he has lived as a small child, where his parents had died for him, saw the places where they had been hit with the Killing Curse, and in the next moment he woke up and was told that his parents would soon come to see him. As much as he was glad, he could not manage to put his joy over his grief. What if they didn't like him? What if they didn't like what the Dursleys had made him become? If they cast him out as he was left without a family once again? _That's nothing new_, he thought dejectedly. '_Freaks don't deserve to be loved'_, said a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like his uncle.

"We are with you, Harry", Hermione whispered and took his hand in hers. "We're always with you, don't forget that!"

In the Headmaster's office Albus Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk made out of solid wood and looked down at his notes that he had made after talking to Hermione Granger. Ms Granger had, once she had regained consciousness again, told him the history of their dimension in detail. Harry's parents had dies to save him. With doing so, they had conjured an ancient and very powerful magic that has made it possible for Harry to survive the Killing Curse. _'The Magic's in his blood"_, Ms Granger had told him. _'Harry told me that this is the reason why he has to life with his aunt and not with Professor Lupin.'_ But how could all this possibly help him to find a way to send the three teenagers back to their world – back home? If that was even possible… He had looked into every single book of his quite large collection, hoping to come across something useful, but that work had been in vain. He ran his hand over his beard and looked down at his notes. There just _had _to be some kind of starting point somewhere!

At this moment, the fire in his fireplace flickered to light green and one by one the members of the Potter family stumbled into his office, sprinkling his notes with a thin layer of soot.

"Sorry, Albus", Lily said, brushing the remains of their travel from her clothes. I'll never get used to that kind of travelling."

"My dear", Dumbledore looked at her amused and stepped closer to greet the Potters. "I too have taken decades until I had less soot on me than the amount that could be found on the inside of the fireplace." He chuckled and pointed to his desk. "I was just about to go through Ms Granger's explanations. There are some very interesting events, but I'm afraid this is not the time for that", he added hastily, as he saw the faces of the boy's family in front of him, that very boy who was probably digesting the biggest shock of his life right now, just one floor below them.

"We did not come here to chat, Albus", James said curtly and puffed his chest out. "We want to see Harry."

"Of course, you do", Dumbledore's eyes twinkled with amusement. "And I will not keep you from doing so any longer. Just let me ask Madam Pomfrey very quickly whether the three newcomers are conscious. You know just as well as I do that our dear Poppy is not all that happy to see her patients being robbed of some well-deserved rest", he winked at James and went over to his fireplace, took some Floo Powder from the bowl on the ledge, threw it into the fire and stuck his head into the now green flames, saying "Hogwarts, Hospital Wing, Pomfrey's office".

While Dumbledore sat in front of the fireplace and talked to the school nurse, Mary glanced nervously over to her parents. Her mother clutched her father's hand, who spoke softly to her. She was trembling slightly.

"Well, Poppy said they are indeed awake", Dumbledore said and stood up again. Lily was about to pull James and her daughter to the door when the headmaster called them back once again.

"What is it now?" She hissed at the wise wizard and whirled around. "I want to finally see my son!"

"And I will not prevent you from doing so", Dumbledore said calmly and looked at them over his half-moon spectacles. "I merely want to advise you to act wisely about this whole thing. Mr Potter is currently processing the news that his parents are still alive and that he even has a sister", he smiled cheerfully at Mary. "It is, at the moment, very much for him to digest and I ask you to keep that in mind." With that, he turned back to his notes.

They were free to leave. And that they did, and _how _they did it. With fluttering hair, Lily rushed out of the office, flowed by her husband and her daughter, down several corridors, around the corner, down another corridor, through a door, which pretended to be a wall, until she finally stood in front of the closed double doors of the infirmary. Behind these doors her son was waiting for them. At that thought, her hand paused on the doorknob. Her son. Her living son. What would he be like? Would he recognize her? Would he look like James did as he had been his age? Even as a baby she had been able to recognize some characteristics that he had clearly inherited from his father – and that wasn't only the black messy hair. She took a deep, shuddering breath. She could do that! She _would _do that!

James ran his hand over his trembling wife's hair. She had not moved for the last few seconds, had just stood there, her hand on the doorknob and had tried to calm down by taking deep breaths. He knew how hard it was for her, he felt the same way. They lived every day with the memories of their son's little body lying in his crib, motionless, cold. But they lived on. And if they were lucky, Harry would live with them from now on. Slowly, James gently pushed Lily's hand from the doorknob and pushed the double doors open.

The infirmary was quite crowded with students who had played a prank on Halloween – most of which had gone terribly wrong. On the bed closest to the door lay a boy with orange skin and purple pustules, next to his lay another boy with horns coming out of his forehead.

But what took their attention was the door on their left. It led to Madam Pomfrey's office, behind which lay the additional hospital room. James led the way, knocked and entered. The school nurse just closed the door to the back room, looked up and immediately went to greet them. "They are awake, but still pretty battered. Their injuries are mostly healed; some bruising can still be seen, but nothing serious. I have somewhat separated Mr Potter's bed from the others', so you'll have some privacy."

"Thank you, Poppy", James said softly, and the nurse smiled at him tentatively. "You can go inside."

Lily took a deep breath, squeezed James' hand and slowly walked to the door, next to which a smiling Poppy had taken position.

"Maybe I should wait outside", Mary said and stopped walking. "I think there'll already be too much excitement when he gets to see you two."

James smiles at her gratefully and Lily kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you, sweetheart", she whispered, wiping a tear from her cheek. "We'll summon you."

With these words, James turned to the door, knocked once, pushed down the door handle and entered the small room.

The three beds that had been positioned against the wall this afternoon were now separated by a white curtain to provide the patient and his visitors some privacy in the narrow space. On the left bed sat a boy – judging by the hair colour Ronald Weasley – staring at them with his mouth wide open and with great fascination. On the bed next to him, Hermione Granger just reached over the gap between their beds and hit him on the back of his head.

"Oi!" Ron glared at her angrily; she just rolled her eyes, annoyed. "I think we should go see Madam Pomfrey for a moment. I suppose we could both need a little bit of fresh air."

"But I don't want… Ow!" With a final blow to the head, Hermione grabbed Ron's arm and dragged him of the bed. "Fresh air will do you some good, Ronald", she hissed and dragged him out of the small room.

James smiled benignly. These two reminded him only too much of Sirius and Remus. Sirius had always been so obtuse and Remus had had to take tough measures. At the door, Hermione turned around again, smiles shyly at them and, with a rather violent shove, pushed Ron through the door, closing it behind them.

Nor James, Lily and Harry were alone in the room. James could tell that the tremors of Lily's hand started to calm sown somewhat and looked up. Before him sat a boy with jet black hair, which stood up in every direction possible. Smiling, he thought, how much he knew this hair since he had a battle with it every morning. Even their mirror said it was pointless, that he was wasting time even trying to somewhat control it. The boy – _Harry _– was quite skinny and looked almost fragile. But what fascinated him the most were his eyes – emerald green, just like his mother's.

James gulped and smiled at him uncertainly. "Hello", he said hesitantly, slowly pulling Lily to Hermione's bed, giving Harry the chance to reject them, to tell them he didn't want them to be so close.

Harry could not believe it. His parents stood in front of him. He had photos of them, in which they looked a bit younger. These people, who stood before him and looked at him with shining, bright eyes, were older. His father had the same hopeless hair as he had. His, also, stood up from his head in every direction, especially on his neck, just like Harry's. He was tall, taller than he and his mother were; he was athletic and had a light healthy tan. His eyes were of a warm hazel brown, with small green and golden spots, as far as he could tell from this distance. He looked at him with so much love in his eyes that Harry caught his breath. Nobody had ever looked at him like that before. Beside him stood his mother, her long fiery red hair fell over her back. She was also a bit taller than him, but not much. Her figure was petite and she had a loving smile on her lips. Her nose was sprinkled with bright freckles, which had begun to fade again due to the lack of sun in this time of the year. Her bright green eyes shone with so much affection and wonder that he found it hard to break away from her sight. Those eyes – his eyes.

Thanks to the photos he had from his parents, he knew that people like Dumbledore, Sirius or Remus didn't tell him without a reason that le looked exactly like his father, but to see it with his own eyes, to have it confirmed first-hand, was a completely different feeling than looking at photos of bygone days.

He had parents!

Lily did not know what to say. Harry looked exactly like she had always dreamed of. He was the pitting image of James, with the exception of his eyes – her eyes. His nose was slightly shorter that James', and he was much thinner and smaller than her husband, but she doubted that this was due to the genes, but rather to the way in which he had grown up. Petunia would still have to render an account of Harry's up-bringing! Even if the Petunia she knew had not got in contact with her for the last two decades. Harry looked at her with wide eyes, she stared right back. She could not believe it. Her son! He was so beautiful, so unique, so special! She wanted to just cradle him in her arms so badly, but she knew Harry would probably not be able to handle that right now. After all, he had no parents at home.

James did not feel much different than his wife. Eagerly he looked at Harry, drinking in the shape of his face, the position of every birthmark and beauty patch, burned his son's appearance into his memory. It was amazing how similar they looked. The shy, yet curious, incredulous look he gave them, his uncertain posture, his trembling, nervous hands, just everything about him was wonderful! He wanted to take away his insecurity, he wanted to say something, but what was to say to his son, who he had last see as a little baby?

He looked from his mother, who looked at him eagerly, to his father, who didn't look any less happy. He wanted to say something, but he didn't know what. These people were his parents, but he didn't know them. How many times had he imagined what it would be like to be reunited with them? He had envisioned that they would cling to each other, weeping, whispering how much they love one another and always wanted to be there for the other, but now, when he actually was in this situation, he lacked the words. For him these two were strangers, even if he had the feeling as if he had known them for his whole life.

A soft voice interrupted his thought and he turned his head a little too quickly in the direction of his mother. _Ou, that didn't sound good_, Harry thought contrite and rubbed his neck, grumbling.

His parents chuckled.

"Are you okay?" His mother asked with a smile and walked over to his bed, where she sat down at some distance to him.

Harry looked at his mother and felt his blood rush into his cheeks. "Um, yeah, I'm alright", he muttered, looking down into his lap, where he joined his hands together. "Happens all the time", he added softly and smiled at them shyly.

_His voice!_ Lily's smile widened.

"I know what you mean", His father said, looking at him with a smile. "Your mother always says, someday I'll end up with no head."

"If you're always distracted, you shouldn't be confused about your reaction when somebody wants to talk to you", Lily said with twinkling eyes and winked at her husband. "That's you own fault!"

"Has to lay in the blood", James ran a hand through his hair and thus making it even more messy than it already had been. "And I thought there was only one Potter curse."

"You mean that chaos on your heads that you call hair?" Lily looked alternately to James and Harry, shaking her head. "What a shame."

Harry watched his parents bicker playfully. Yes, he could understand why Sirius and Remus had always been crazy about them. So different and yet so similar.

"Harry?" He turned to his father, who looked at him with a smile. "I've heard that your friend Hermione has told you everything? I mean where you are and all that?"

Harry took a deep breath and nodded.

"Them you also know that there is someone who would like to get to know you?" James studied his son as said boy nodded slowly.

"Would you like me to call her inside? She has been so excited when we have told her about you and I fear that she may have started to drive Madam Pomfrey crazy out of sheer nervousness." At this moment a bang could be heard, coming from the adjoining office. "Or has already succeeded", James added with raised brows, went to the door, opened it and peered into the room beyond.

"She is a little excited when it comes to having to wait", Lily said as she saw the expression on Harry's face. "Even though she was the one who proposed to wait."

With an annoyed "Finally" coming from a stressed Madam Pomfrey, a girl with fiery red hair and a shy smile entered the room, stopped in front of Harry, took a deep breath and said "Hi! I'm Mary!"

"Harry", he stretched out his hand for her to shake, but Mary just pushed his hand away and gave him a bear-hug. He winced violently.

"Mary!" Lily cried aghast and pulled her daughter away from Harry. "For Merlin's sake, can't you pull yourself together for once?"

"Sorry, Mum", Mary did not really look as if she meant it. She turned away from her mother, who joined her husband with a sigh, who stood at the door, grinning, and turned back to her brother. "Do you play Quidditch? I've been on the team since third year. I'm a Chaser. What broom model do you have? Do you even have a broom?"

Harry eyed his sister with amusement, as she asked him questions over questions without giving him the chance to respond. Grinning, he turned to his parents, who stood at the door, James' arm around Lily's waist, and watched their children lovingly. James winked at him and Lily rolled her eyes as if to say 'Try to ignore her. She's just excited.'

He had a family, a real family, who accepted him the way he was. His mother smiled at him, his father looked proudly at him and his sister told him how she had managed, with the help of her friends, to spread steaming slime all over the Slytherin table, which appeared only when a Slytherin said or thought something mean or unfair about Gryffindor. "So it was you after all!"

For the first time in his life he had a fair idea of what it was like to be accepted. For the first time in his life he had a family. For the first time in his life he was truly happy.

* * *

A/N: Next chapter: Harry gets to know his family and Dumbledore tells the Potters his thoughts upon sending the three dimension-travelers back home :)  
Also, I have an idea for another fanfic. I would write it in German, obviously, but if you want to read it as well, tell me :) I'd love to translate it for you guys :)


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